The Second Inter-District Inter-Disciplinary Events
by goldie031
Summary: After the success of the First Events, President Emerald is feeling confident in her ability to flawlessly execute them again. But will everything go according to plan?
1. But Krum Gets The Snitch

_One Month after the First Inter-District, Inter-Disciplinary Events_

* * *

Violet Emerald hung up her phone and took a deep, deep breath. She knew that breaking this news to her aunt would be difficult at best, but she just needed to do it. With as much confidence as she could muster, Violet took her clipboard to use as a shield and made her way over to President Ruby Emerald's office.

"Ruby?"

"Come in," called the president.

Violet entered her aunt's office and shut the door. "We've got a problem."

"What's up?"

"Two refuses to host the Events."

Ruby took off her reading glasses, placed them down on the desk, and turned around. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I've been working with the appropriate parties on making it happen, but it just… Delphine refused."

Ruby sighed. "Can't say I'm surprised. Still a bit disappointed, but not surprised."

"Huh?"

"Two is the most traditional Career district, as I'm sure you know. The Events threaten that system. For Chloe to even be as accepted as she is in Two is a really big step, but I think them hosting the Events would have been a step too far."

"So why did you have me push them so much?"

"Because I wasn't going to give up until either we got them to cave or they put up enough of a fight. Or until we ran out of time. And at this point, I think we've run out of time."

"So now what? Are we just not going to have the Events?"

"I reached out to Thirteen and Four two weeks ago, when I saw the writing on the wall, to get them to start thinking of ideas. Connect with Thirteen and see if they can get you something within the next two weeks. If they will, it goes to them. Two's loss."

"Good plan."

Two weeks later, Violet returned to Ruby's office in much better spirits. "Well, I just got off the phone with Thirteen."

"And?"

"They've got an idea!"

"Let me hear it."

"So, Thirteen was down to host, which is fantastic. I had to help the team from Thirteen come up with the idea because they're super not creative. We decided to base it on an ancient TV show for kids called Endurance. Basically, the way it'll work is each day will have a theme. There will be one main challenge for the day where the winner gets to choose a team to go into an elimination challenge. The second team in the elimination challenge is the team that is the least popular with the audience. Loser is eliminated. Final team standing wins."

"Interesting," Ruby smiled. "So the district partners work as a team?"

"Yes, but…"

Violet whispered something into Ruby's ear, then watched as her aunt's face broke into a big grin. "That's brilliant."

"I know, right? I'm excited about it."

Ruby looked at the notes she jotted down about the Events Violet had described. "What are the themes?"

"They're the values that the Host District believes best exemplify each district. So District Two, for example, is best exemplified by Strength, Thirteen by Discipline, Twelve by Heart, et cetera."

"So that's how things tie in to each district. Nicely done."

"Oh! I almost forgot to mention. Competitors will not be picked randomly, unless Three wants to pick them randomly because their value is luck. They will be nominated based on how well they exemplify their district's value."

"Interesting. We will, of course, have to screen nominations, but I kind of like it. Now, do you have anything in terms of specific competitions?"

"We were a bit delayed in starting, so we have a concept, but we don't have any competitions designed yet except for that part I just told you about."

Ruby nodded. "That is to be expected. Now, are you going to be acting as Head Gamemaker?"

"No. The Events Gamemaker from Thirteen will technically be the head, but I'll be supporting them as much as I can."

"Very good. Violet, after the success of the First Events, I trust that you will ensure that these Events go smoothly and are well-liked."

"Oh, trust me, these will be way more drama-filled. Of course they'll be well liked!"

"Very good."

* * *

 **Welcome, everyone, to the long-awaited IDIDE2! If you already read this chapter, you might notice that it's changed a bit. That's because spoilers are no longer an issue for this story, as IDIDE1 has finished!** **If you're a bit confused about what the hell is going on in this universe, feel free to shoot me a PM! But basically, what's going on is that the Events are a super fun competition eventually intended to replace the Games where nobody dies.**

 **Submissions for this story will be unlimited, and the story is not first-come, first-served, so feel free to submit as many as you want to give yourself the best chance! I love it when people incorporate my headcanons into their characters, so feel free to ask me questions about the various districts that may not be obvious in my stories or that you may not know.**

 **The form is a google form on my profile. I'm so excited to see what you come up with!**

 **-goldie031**


	2. The Victory Tour

"Chloe!" Hestia called from the ground floor of their house. "Come downstairs for a sec."

"Coming!" Chloe, holding a little white ball of fluff, bounded down the stairs. "What's up?"

"I just got a notification from the Capitol. Some subset of Emeralds want to talk about the Victory Tour."

"Oh, right. I have to do that."

"Yes, you do." Hestia led Chloe to the room in the basement of their house designated for communication with the Capitol. As it was underground, with no windows, and officially inspected by a Capitol official every year, it was the perfect way to make sure that classified information didn't somehow leak out. When they arrived downstairs, Hestia shut the door, then quickly checked out the space for bugs before opening up a video chat channel with the Capitol.

After a few moments, the screen lit up with the image of President Emerald and Violet Emerald. "Violet, is this working?" Ruby asked.

"Yep, we look good. Chloe, Hestia, can you hear us?"

"Yep!" Chloe exclaimed. "Hi!"

"Hello, dear," smiled Ruby. "How have things been?"

"Good! I have pets now!"

"Oh?"

"Four of them!"

"And Hestia was OK with this?" Violet smirked.

"More or less," said Hestia with a little smirk.

After Chloe had returned to Two, she'd had a tough few days; both she and Hestia knew that leaving her parents was the right call, but it had still been hard for Chloe to leave everything she knew behind. Hestia, recognizing that the girl needed a source of comfort, brought her to an animal shelter to pick out one pet. Well, one pet had quickly turned into four pets, meaning that Chloe was now constantly followed around by a teeny-tiny Pomeranian named Fluffy, a ragdoll cat named Georgie, a Great Pyrenees named Milky, and a Samoyed named Ghost. While Hestia had been less than enthralled by the idea of having so many animals in the house, it had turned into a good thing. While most of the rest of the district was at the Academies one way or another in the afternoon, Chloe wanted to stay far, far away from them; the animals proved to be very good playmates for the caring young girl. Except for the whole white fur all over the house thing.

"Wanna meet Fluffy?" Chloe asked eagerly.

"Sure, show him to me." Chloe held up her ball of fluff, allowing his tiny brown eyes to peek out at Ruby. "He's very cute."

"I know! That's why his name is Fluffy."

"All right, I think we should get started," interjected Violet. "We have a decent amount to go over before the Victory Tour starts. We'll begin with Ruby, who will discuss the logistics of the Tour itself. Then, I'll go over the information that you will be bringing to the Victors about the next Events. We want to prime them a little bit, unlike the Games, because the criteria for competitors will shift a little bit. But more on that later. First, Ruby."

"Thanks, Vi. All right. For the Tour, you will not be going in the order of the districts from highest to lowest, so not Thirteen, Twelve, Eleven, and so on. You'll still be starting in Thirteen, both because it's farthest away from Two and the Capitol and because it's the host district for next year's Events."

"Thirteen is hosting?" asked Chloe. "I thought Two was."

Ruby and Violet exchanged a glance. "It's complicated," Ruby said, which was clearly all that she was going to say on the matter. Chloe looked to Hestia, who shook her head and pointed to the screen. Clearly, the girl was not going to get any more information, so she resignedly turned her attention back to the screen.

"So, you'll begin in Thirteen. Then, you'll travel in an order similar to, but not identical to, the order of the competitions, in that you'll always travel to a district that is adjacent to the one you leave. That order, and I don't expect you to remember it, is Thirteen, Six, Three, Twelve, Eight, Eleven, Ten, Five, Four, One, Seven, Nine, Two, and of course you'll end in the Capitol, as the host of this year's Events. You're going to give a short speech about your time in the Events, and mention a little something about every competitor. You can work with those who travel with you on the tour to flesh out what that looks like. Now, they all need to be about the same length. So while I know you could talk for a long time about Winsley, think about how someone who you know less, like maybe Luna, would feel if you didn't talk about them for as long. It's up to you how to make sure that happens.

"One thing that we want to do with this Victory Tour in contrast to the Games Tour is that we want to make it about every competitor, not just you as a Victor. So, when you talk about each competitor, you'll present them with a ring, commemorating their time in the Events."

Chloe smiled. "That's such a nice thing to do! But then how do I get a ring? Do I give it to myself?"

Ruby and Violet looked at each other again. "Well, we were thinking that you didn't need a ring, because you already have a very pretty crown," Ruby admitted.

"I guess that's true." Chloe tried to hide her disappointment. Sure, she had a very pretty crown that she kept on a special pedestal in her house. Sometimes, she would wear it just to walk down the stairs of the house, to feel like she was back in the pretty ballroom in the Capitol. (Hestia would even humor her sometimes by standing at the bottom of the stairs and clapping for her as she came down, then whisking the younger girl into a waltz.) But as much as she knew that her status as a Victor was… better, she supposed was the word, than just getting a ring, she still felt a bit left out because she wouldn't get one.

"And you may be presented with some gifts in the other districts, too. Then the ceremony will close. You'll change into a nicer dress and go to some sort of celebratory banquet, and then get back on the train and travel off to the next district. Does that all make sense?"

"Yep!" Chloe nodded.

"Fantastic. I'll turn it over to Violet to go over some of the information you'll be responsible for bearing to the districts. Please remember that this information will be kept secret until a predetermined moment, and do not share it with anybody until that time. Violet?"

"Yes. Hi, Chloe," Violet began. "So at the end of the ceremony, you're going to present each district's mayor with two boxes, letting them know that they will open automatically on the day that the Games conclude. As you can see, the top of the box has the seal of the district engraved on it. But when the box opens, you can see that the word district on the top is replaced by a word, and the image in the middle replaced by an image representing that word. On the inside of the top of the box, we added a message for the districts, instructing them to present the medallion to a competitor who best exemplifies that value.

"Assuming that the districts will be confused by that instruction, we've included a flash drive under one of the medallions, explaining to the mentors that they are to select two competitors who best exemplify their district's value. They may use any method they choose, and they also may choose two competitors of any gender – two male, two female, one of each, two out of the binary, whatever. The two competitors must be submitted to the Capitol for review by a month prior to the Reaping, so by the date of the Winter Holiday.

"We're hoping also to have a draft list of mentors on that flash drive. This will include all of the approved mentors from the First Events, as well as from the Games. Any other information will be distributed on a need-to-know basis. Understood?"

Chloe nodded eagerly. "I got it!"

"Good," Ruby said, nodding. "There's one other thing we have to tell you."

"Yes?"

"Unfortunately, Hestia won't be able to join you on the Victory Tour."

Chloe looked at Hestia, horrified. "Why not?"

"She has some business to take care of during the Events. Plus, someone needs to watch all of your animals."

"So who will come with me?"

"Well, obviously both Arabelle and Hannibal will go, as will Boebette and Vivia and maybe one or two prep team members. But you need someone specially designated as your guardian. I'm guessing you don't want that to be your parents, yes?"

"Correct."

"So you have my permission to choose any one of the District Two mentors you'd like."

"I choose Carissa," said Chloe without any hesitation.

Carissa was the first Victor that Chloe remembered coming home from the Games in her lifetime. And unlike the vicious Sene twins who would return home two years later, Chloe recognized almost instantly Carissa's good heart, completely unsoiled by the Games. Little Chloe had wanted nothing more than to be just like Carissa, and it made the young Victor so happy nine and a half years later that, of all of the mentors from Two, Carissa had been the most welcoming to the young girl. While most of the ones who had initially been closed off to the young girl had warmed up to her, Chloe had never forgotten the kindness that Carissa had showed her, so she naturally wanted to spend more time with the maternal, sisterly woman.

Plus, she knew how much it would mean to Carissa to travel to Twelve.

"Well, then, it's set. She will come with you on the Tour.

"If you have any questions before it starts feel free to reach out, but I can't guarantee we'll be able to video chat again. Have fun on the Tour, Chloe!"

"Oh, I will!" Chloe assured the president.

~.~.

It seemed to Chloe as though no time had passed at all between her call with President Emerald and the Victory Tour. But soon enough, it was July 10th, and it was time for her to see all of Panem. Chloe stood on the platform next to Hestia, who was dropping her off, and Arabelle Pick, generally bubbling over with anticipation for the train that would soon pull in to take her out to Thirteen. Admittedly, it would be way better if Hestia could come with her. But Chloe was excited that Carissa could come instead! And maybe she'd be able to call Hestia if she got homesick.

"Are you excited, Chloe?" asked Arabelle, standing next to the young girl on the platform.

"Very! It's so cool that I get to see all of Panem."

"I agree – that's one of the best parts of the Victory Tour. Nowadays there's inter-District travel, but it took a while to get there. When I became a Victor, I didn't think I'd ever be able to see the rest of the country again." Arabelle stopped. "What year were you born?"

Chloe counted backwards on her fingers. "122," she responded.

"Do you even remember a Panem without inter-district travel?"

"No."

"And so you were one when I won."

"Not even."

"Wow, I'm old."

Suddenly, Chloe felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and jumped right into the arms of Carissa Lovarre, giving her a tight embrace. "Carissa!"

"Hi, Chloe. Are you excited?"

"Really excited! I get to see all of Panem." Chloe registered who the two people who came with Carissa were: Hannibal Lector, who was technically her mentor, and Delphine Pix-Lits, Two's Victor's Council representative. "Hi, Hannibal!"

"Hello, dear." Hannibal was technically Chloe's mentor, though he wasn't as close to her as she was to Carissa, certainly, or even to Arabelle. He had always been tame as far as Two Victors were concerned, but he was especially mellow now that he had children, one of whom was around Chloe's age. So while he couldn't always catch up with her physically, and while Chloe was less close to him than she was to her strong female role models, the two had a strong appreciation for each other. "It's nice to see you."

"You too!" Chloe gave Hannibal a big hug of his own, surprising the much older man. Then, she turned to Delphine, and gave the Victor a small curtsy. "It's nice to see you too, Mrs. Pix-Lits."

"Hello there, Chloe." While Delphine hadn't been totally against the Events, she hadn't been all that much in favor of them, understanding the ways in which they drastically went against Two's culture. She had initially been very apprehensive of Chloe as a result, but she quickly began to appreciate the young girl and the unilaterally positive attitude that she brought with her to the Victors' Village. not to mention that she was remarkably respectful of her elders given all that she'd been through.

Not to mention that all of the animals were great stress relievers.

"Are you ready for the Tour?" Delphine asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, I don't think I need to remind you of this but remember that you are serving as a representative of District Two for the next two weeks. We expect you to be kind and respectful to those whom you meet, both Victors and normal citizens, and to honor those against whom you've competed. Stand tall and proud, like the Victor you are. And be the best you that you can be."

"Of course, ma'am."

"And have fun! You may not get to see the country again for a while. So make the best of it."

"Yes, ma'am."

Just then, the train arrived, ready to take Chloe off on her adventure. As it pulled in, Chloe wrapped Hestia into a big hug. "I'll miss you a lot!"

"I'll miss you too, Chloe."

"Take good care of everybody else for me, OK?"

"Of course. I can't wait to hear all about it!" Chloe gave Hestia one more big hug, grabbed her suitcase, the carrying case for her crown, and the little red purse containing Fluffy, then followed Carissa, Hannibal, and Arabelle to the train. As the doors closed, Chloe was greeted by her escort, Boebette, and her stylist, Vivia. She greeted them both excitedly, then excused herself to watch the scenery pass by, cuddling with little Fluffy.

After a comfortable night on the train, it was time to get ready for District Thirteen. Vivia led Chloe and her prep team to the rear car on the train, where they carefully prepared the young girl for her first appearance. As had become tradition, Chloe would wear the color of the district in which she would appear for both the ceremony and the banquet; her ceremony outfit would be in some way appropriate for the district and its industry, if possible, while her banquet outfit would be some sort of evening or cocktail dress with her crown. For Thirteen's ceremony, as it was a military district, she put on a black dress uniform; Vivia did her hair in a tight bun, helped Chloe into her flats, and it was time to go.

The ceremony in Thirteen felt slightly imposing, because the entire district was lined up in formation, each and every person wearing a dress uniform. Even the youngest kids were wearing dress uniforms nearly identical to Chloe's. During the speeches, Chloe decided to try to spot the differences between the uniforms, which she quickly ascertained was the number of stripes on the patches on their sleeves. It prompted her to check her own sleeve; Chloe had no stripes, but she did have a little gold crown. There were also some differences in medals and patches on the front of the uniforms. Chloe had no medals or patches.

When it came time to give her speech, Chloe was not met by applause; rather, by a salute. She delivered her speech kindly, then presented the rings to Aelyx and Henley. Both of them had special medals on their chest that she hadn't seen on anyone else's; Chloe also noticed that Henley had a small black diamond patch that Aelyx didn't have. Each saluted Chloe when she handed them her ring; Chloe, catching on, saluted back. Once she was done, the general of the army, who was also the mayor of Thirteen, saluted Chloe, then pinned a special medal on her chest. It looked like Aelyx and Henley's medals, but it was a bit bigger, gold instead of silver, and the ribbon was red, while Henley's ribbon was mint and Aelyx's was navy. To conclude the ceremony, Chloe delivered the medallion boxes to the general along with a salute.

Between the ceremony and the banquet, Chloe got to spend some time with Nissan, Thirteen's only Victor. Chloe noticed that he also had a special medallion, except that it had a black ribbon, and that he had both one stripe and a gold crown on his sleeve. Chloe felt lucky to have another Victor close to her age, and she greatly enjoyed talking to him. Afterwards, Chloe changed into a dressy black dress for the slightly less formal banquet.

After the banquet, which was a lovely, slightly less formal affair, Chloe boarded the train again and made her way to Six. The contrast to Thirteen was immediately apparent; as most of Thirteen, including all of its formal spaces, were underground, making it feel incredibly dark and slightly constricting. Six, on the other hand, had actual outdoor space. Chloe couldn't imagine this gorgeous park-like land ever being home to the factories that must have clogged it up before the redistricting. She loved looking at the pretty round trees and the gorgeous red-brick buildings; if she had ever imagined what a college or university campus was like, it was Six.

For this district's ceremony, Chloe what Vivia described as academic regalia: a long white gown, some weird white square cap thing with a gold tassel, a golden stole, and a red cord. The ceremony was almost equally as formal as Thirteen's, but this time, it seemed as thought it was OK to applaud. Chloe remembered seeing tapes of the Games Victory Tours on television when she was younger, where most of the non-Career district applauded kind of fakely, but from what she could tell, she was actually well-received. After all, she hadn't wronged anybody during the Events, and both Nell and Ventus were still alive. The two received their rings graciously, Nell with her normal level of enthusiasm and Ventus with his normal level of quiet. To conclude the ceremony, Chloe presented the President of Six's university, who was also the mayor, with the two medallion boxes, and she, in turn, presented Chloe with a fancy notebook and a really nice pen, both of which had her name engraved on them.

Chloe had never had anything with her actual name on it before.

Meeting the Victors in Six was… interesting. None of the Victors were remotely near her age. Orris and Sydnee were really nice to Chloe, but they both kind of felt like they could be her grandma. Alex simply didn't acknowledge the young girl for the entire time that they were together, and Gigi couldn't remember who Chloe was or why she was in Six. Chloe remained composed and respectful for her time in Six, though she was very excited when the banquet was over and it was time to move on.

District Three looked exactly like what Chloe imagined Six used to look like: smoggy, dark, and clogged up with factories. There was no particular outfit for Three, so Vivia put Chloe in a bright yellow sundress and sandals, her hair in two fishtail braids. The young Victor was fairly well-received in Three, less so than in Six, though Chloe figured that Three was just a sad and dreary district in general. It turned out that Sinsya and Alexei were both on break from school, but had been flown into Three just for the ceremony; like the rest of the district, neither seemed particularly excited to receive the ring, which wasn't to say that they were upset about it. In exchange for the medallion boxes, Chloe received a very fancy watch; it would take her twenty minutes to figure out how to set it to the proper time.

Three's Victors were much nicer to Chloe across the board than Six's, especially Byte Harper, their only living female Victor, and Edison Rakesh, whose Victory was often presented in Two as an example of how not to win. Jones and Linus were nice enough, but Chloe could sense some lingering tension between them. And Giovano Crick was just downright brilliant; he was clearly destined for something impressive, and the Games had just been a small bump in the road. Chloe enjoyed her time with the Victors, though some of the things they talked about kind of went over her head. Soon enough, it was time for the banquet, and then to keep on traveling.

Of all of the districts in Panem, Twelve had benefitted the most from the redistricting. Once the poorest district by far, Twelve's economic stock had dramatically risen since being given medicine as an industry, narrowing the gap between the Seam and Merchant classes. And their medical facilities especially looked quite nice, new, and clean, despite a lingering layer of coal dust that still hung in the air. Chloe was received very well by this district, her Victory and popularity a sign of hope for future Events and the end of the death and destruction brought on by the Games. This was the first district where Chloe was excited to see another competitor and gave Alder a hug along with his ring. Sharen accepted hers from the younger girl politely. Her present from Twelve was exciting: a stethoscope! Chloe was so excited to get to hear the sound of her own heartbeat.

Twelve had just four living Victors, two of whom were twins. Chloe was amazed that Damien, Twelve's oldest Victor, was still doing very well at the ripe old age of 75. Lilac and Delilah, the twins, were kind enough. And Asha, Twelve's first Victor after a 43-year drought, was clearly the district's darling, yet she was still so kind and considerate to the young girl. Chloe felt right at home in Twelve, and it was the first district where she was truly upset to leave it. Without a doubt, she'd be back there soon.

When Chloe arrived in Eight, she kind of felt like she hadn't left Three. In fact, Eight felt like a more Three version of Three; more congested, with way more smog and factories. This was the first district where Chloe concretely felt that she'd been received negatively. She hadn't done anything to actively wrong either tribute, so she wondered why exactly Eight didn't seem to like her; for that reason, the ceremony felt very rushed, the mayor of Eight assuring Chloe that they would give the girl her present when the ceremony was over. At least Sage and Serenity seemed happy to see her, and excited to receive a token from their time in the Arena. Chloe did notice that Sage's box felt a bit heavier than all of the others she'd passed out, but she couldn't quite figure out why.

Chloe was surprised to find out that Eight had only two living Victors, Neelee Hem and Rose Web, both of whom were incredibly kind to her. She presented Neelee, the older of the two, with the medallion boxes. Neelee and Rose, in turn, gave Chloe a whole giant doll house. Her very own doll house! She'd never had a doll house before, and it made Chloe downright ecstatic. She didn't love Eight, but she really liked Eight's mentors.

From Eight, Chloe traveled to Eleven, which was a very different district; it had miles and miles of all kinds of farmland, with no big buildings anywhere in sight. Dressed in a simple brown sundress with her hair straight down, Chloe appeared on the veranda in front of the Justice Building to a reception that was warmer than Eight's by a hair. At least they were able to not rush through the ceremony, and Chloe was able to both give the medallion boxes to Eleven's mayor in front of the district and receive some sort of fancy bouquet of fruit, some of which was covered in chocolate. Chloe was happy that Crixus and Mallory both seemed happy to see her; both of them, but Mallory especially, looked way better than they looked when Chloe last saw them.

The Victors in Eleven were all just so kind and nice to Chloe, especially Ivie, the youngest of them. Quiinn especially was such a father figure and wanted to do everything in his power to keep Chloe comfortable during her time in Eleven. Skylar was much more open and talkative than Beckia, but Chloe liked both of them too. Rather than just talk with the Victors, Chloe followed them out to pick her own fruit in the fields. Chloe kept one piece of fresh-picked fruit for herself, but distributed the rest of it to the workers to help them make their quotas.

Of all of the districts, Ten was one that Chloe was most looking forward to visiting. Ramona was there! There were so many animals there! And she would get to see a real, live cow! Milky White was probably just a mutt, after all. Chloe was also very excited about her outfit for this district: a pink t-shirt, denim overall shorts, and pink converse, plus double braids in her hair again. It brought back all of the great memories of the night of the party in the Capitol.

The ceremony itself was nice; Chloe was received fairly well in Ten, especially compared to Eight. It was certainly nice to see Kitt again, but it was especially exciting to see Ramona, with whom Chloe had bonded after she and Alexei quasi-broke up. And she liked spending time with the female Victors in Ten, Bessie, Zolt, and Michelle, who were all very nice though not all particularly intelligent (the male Victors, Mosule and Hawk, not so much). They even brought her out to help feed the chickens and collect their eggs. But by far the best part of being in Ten was the present Chloe received in exchange for the medallion boxes: her very own cow! A baby cow of her very own!

This was the best day of Chloe's life.

After another car was attached onto the back of the train for the cow, Chloe and the crew made their way to Five. For a district whose industry was power, Five was a remarkably dark and dreary district; Chloe's orange dress almost felt like the only bright spot. Nobody seemed particularly excited to see her, either. It wasn't that she was received badly, she just… wasn't received at all. At least there were a few nice mentors from Five. Ali was especially kind to Chloe, and Khara was very nice as well. Brinna was just… very quiet, Lyla, their oldest Victor, was very stern, and Watson just looked very anxious. And she was happy to see her competitor friends, Luna and Damien, and to give them their rings, and she really liked the present she got from Five, some sort of magic color-changing lava lamp. But all in all, Five was just a very meh district; Chloe remained polite and respectful, but was again simply excited to move on.

Coming from Five, Four, with its glistening beaches and bright blue water, felt like paradise. It was so nice to be in a warm district, with no smog or sadness or anything. And the people of Four, too, all seemed very happy to live in such a nice place. For some reason that Chloe couldn't possibly understand, Vivia had dressed Chloe up like what she called a royal blue "sailor scout," complete with knee-high boots and hair in pigtails. Chloe figured that this was some sort of obscure Capitol pop culture reference that she didn't understand, but she thought she looked kind of adorable. And at least Vivia had made the skirt decently long.

The ceremony in Four was a lovely affair. Chloe felt really welcome in Four, and was received quite kindly by its citizens. Chloe was easily able to ascertain Four's place among Career districts; certainly loyalist and Capitol friendly, but not so Career crazy as One or Two. It was nice to see Sol, Amazon, and Lucy again; Ruby had sent Chloe with a special necklace for Lucy along with Amazon and Sol's rings. Four also gave arguably the most usable gift of them all, presenting Chloe with an inflatable pool. And after her time with the Victors, Chloe got to swim in the ocean before the banquet! Everything about the day was just great.

For a Career district, Four had surprisingly few living Victors, at only six; it was at least still more than all of the non-Career districts, but Chloe knew how bad that looked to Two, and that their Victor count was part of the reason that Four had been phased out of the Pack. That wasn't to say that Four didn't have some pretty scary Victors; Chloe had zero interest in being anywhere near Calytrix Porcher or Nemo Watterson, both of whom were downright scary. Tace was kind, but also pretty old, Amphetrite was incredibly intimidating, and Zander didn't seem to make too much of an effort to interact with Chloe. So the young Victor spent most of her time with Ariel Marsh, Four's newest Victor, who was one of the kindest people that Chloe had ever met. Chloe totally understood why Nissan liked Ariel so much, and she was excited to spend more time with her over time. Chloe was truly sad to leave the paradise of a district that was Four; maybe she'd be able to go on vacation there someday.

If District Four had a lot of natural beauty, One had a lot of what could only be described as unnatural beauty. This went for both the beautiful buildings, sculptures, fountains, et cetera that made up the landscape of the district and the people who lived there, many of whom had had some sort of work done to look as "beautiful" as they did. In her simple silver sundress, her hair done in bouncy curls, Chloe felt quite underdressed compared to so many of the people in the crowd, watching her up on stage, even though she was wearing a little bit of makeup for the first time on the Tour. The ceremony in One was also a bit longer than some of the others, as Chloe was presented with flowers by two young trainees in addition to the standard speeches. Despite its beauty and all of the sparkly stuff One made, it was certainly not Chloe's favorite stop on the Tour.

The brightest spot of her time in District One was that two people very special to her and her guardian were there. Carissa was always happy to see her co-Victor, Lavender Aroma, and was proud of the woman that the young girl obsessed with decapitation had become. And Chloe was of course excited to see her partner, Wins, as it was the first time that Chloe had seen Winslet in person since the Events. Today was a Saturday, so being a weekend, she was Winslet, and Chloe couldn't get over how beautiful she looked. When Wins came up to receive her ring, Chloe gave her partner the biggest hug her little body could. She was also happy to see Jess and present that ring, but naturally was just unbelievably thrilled to be with Wins again. The Victors from One even let Wins present Chloe with their present, a diamond necklace, instead of the mayor.

Meeting with the Victors from One had a markedly somber tone, one that hadn't been present in any other district, as Marvel Lux, the Victor of the 94th Games, had suddenly passed away just a month before. Not that One was bereft of living Victors; they still had nine of them, after all. But Chloe understood the way that Career districts mourned their Victors, and so she knew that she had to pay her respects to Marvel as it was within a year of his death. She made her way to the cemetery with the two youngest One Victors, Jasmine Estrella and Steven Sapir, to do so, as six of the seven older Victors finished the last preparations for their volunteers and Lavender went to work at her dance studio. Chloe liked Steven and Jasmine, and was excited to learn that the two would be permanently mentoring for the Events. Chloe thought it was clever for One to have two of their many Victors permanently assigned to the Events; she made a mental note to talk to Delphine about establishing a similar system in Two.

After another tearful goodbye with Wins, Chloe traveled with her team to Seven, another district with immense natural beauty; Chloe absolutely adored just walking around under the trees and looking at the pretty patterns made by the leaves' shadows on the paths. The serene calm of Seven was not lost on Chloe; everyone in the district just seemed so relaxed and calm, and welcomed Chloe to their home district with kind and calm applause. Sawyer seemed so much more relaxed being home, and gave Chloe a kind smile when the Victor gave the older woman her ring. Morrel, on the other hand, was just as high-strung as normal; Chloe hoped that he would soon be able to get into a program in a district that better fit his temperament. Naturally, Seven gave Chloe a sapling, specifically an oak sapling; Mayor Grove specifically requested that Chloe mail back the first leaf and first acorn to fall so that the tree's bloodline could remain in Seven.

Chloe didn't really gel with any of Seven's five living Victors. Seven was the most Career-like non-Career district, so while Chloe totally understood where Peter Rhett, Ivey Hunterson, and Fir Remington were coming from, she still couldn't quite figure out how to interact with them, just like she still struggled to interact with the fiercer Two Victors. Chloe struggled to make friends with Reth Rubrum because of how much older than her he was, and Alvin Carthy was, quite simply, a very quiet pushover. Luckily, she still had enough time after the Victors' meeting to hang out outdoors, under the trees, before the banquet.

District Nine was another district that had gone through pretty drastic change after the redistricting; once a district of fields and fields and fields of grain, now it had a strange mix of some factories, central train stations, post offices, et cetera. It made Nine feel like a hodge-podge of things that didn't quite fit together, which gave the district a fun flavor of its own. Chloe was pretty well-received in Nine, part of which came from the influence of their female competitor: Liana Klepper, the great-niece of President Ruby Emerald, who had become much closer to her great-aunt in the six or so months since the Events. Chloe presented Liana with her ring more respectfully than she had to any other competitor; it was hard to tell which of the two was technically of a higher status than the other, so each gave each other the requisite curtsy. Chloe gave Aviel his ring very quickly; she knew exactly how everyone who had competed in the Events felt about him, especially because he had sabotaged her, and so Chloe didn't want to give Aviel any more screen time than she had to. The ceremony concluded with Chloe exchanging the two medallion boxes for a nice leather messenger bag.

The time Chloe spent with Nine's Victors was nice. Chloe got along very well with Irabella Miller, and really liked the much older Sheaf twins even though they were both in their 50s. Riker was nice enough, and Durum was simply as absent as one could be while still being required to be in the room with Chloe. The Victors were clearly more focused on preparing for the upcoming Games than on Chloe and the Events Tour, but they were still lovely to her for the time they spent together before the banquet.

Chloe was shocked by how happy it was when the train pulled into Two. It just went to show how much the district had become home for her over the six or so months since she won. It was nice and comforting to be in a place where she felt at home. And it was equally comforting to know that she was just as well received now as she had been six months ago when she first came home. It had become clear that many Two citizens didn't really care whether it was a Games Victor or an Events Victor; any Victor they could get was good enough for them, because it was yet another chip on their shoulder.

For this ceremony, Chloe wore a dress that was almost as fancy as what she would wear to the banquet that night. It was one of the longer ceremonies of the Tour, with the top male and female trainee of each Reaping Age age group presenting Chloe with a bouquet of flowers. Chloe was also presented with a single red rose by Myranda, to whom she gave a ring in return. The formality of that exchange was slightly awkward, as the two actually had maintained a very positive relationship, something that Myranda certainly didn't expect to get out of a competition taking place in the Capitol. Over the course of the Events, Chloe and Myranda had become almost like sisters, and they maintained that close relationship over the time that had passed since. The ceremony concluded with the mayor receiving the medallion boxes from Chloe, and giving her in return a large sword, nearly as big as she was, with rubies on the hilt. It looked pretty, but Chloe had no idea what she would do with it.

Rather than spend time with Two's Victors, Chloe was allowed to return home and drop off her gifts before changing there for the banquet. So, everything except the cow was loaded up into a car and driven over to Victor's Village; Chloe walked there herself along with Carissa and the cow. When she got home – oh, it was nice to have somewhere to truly call home – she knocked sharply on the door. "Hestia!"

Hestia opened the door, Ghost, Georgie, and Milky crowding around her. "Hi, Chloe! And… what's this?"

"It's a cow! From Ten!"

"I thought we agreed no more animals. Four is enough."

"But it's so small!"

"Cows grow, Chloe."

"But her name is Winnie! And it was a gift! Please?"

Chloe and Hestia looked at Carissa. "You can't really give away a gift," Carissa said with a faint smile on her face.

Hestia shook her head. "Fine, we can keep it for now. But when we go to the Capitol tomorrow I'm asking Ruby if there's a way to keep the cow small."

"We?"

"Yeah! Ruby said I could come with you and everyone else tomorrow. Vivia told me that your dress for tomorrow night is the prettiest one of them all."

"Ooh! I'm excited to see it!"

Hestia looked over Chloe's shoulder as the other gifts were being brought inside. "And… is that a sword?"

"Yeah. Two gave it to me today."

"I saw, but I couldn't quite believe it. Why would they give someone as young as you a sword?"

"I dunno," Chloe shrugged. "Tradition. Can I open the doll house and play with it now?"

"Yes, for a little bit before the banquet."

Two's banquet was a long and illustrious affair; clearly, regardless of how the district felt about the Events, they were excited to show off what they had to offer. Chloe was very grateful to be able to spend that night in her own bed, at home, with all five of her animals with her, as she got home very late. Almost as soon as she woke up the next morning, however, it was time to leave for the Capitol. And Chloe was just as excited as she was the first time she went to the Capitol. It was such a pretty, bright city, and all of Chloe's memories of the Capitol were so happy. She knew that she was very lucky in this regard; most district people didn't only have happy Capitol memories. Chloe could only hope that that streak would continue.

Unlike the rest of the districts, the ceremony in the Capitol would lead right into the banquet. Consequently, Chloe would spend her time with the Victors before the ceremony itself. The two Capitol Victors could not possibly be more different; Chloe was incredibly amused by their relationship, could not understand how they were married. Henderson was quiet and calm, and clearly looked physically week than some other males from the current Career districts. His wife, Lavinia, was boisterous, always very chatty and never seen without a mimosa despite being only 22. Both were kind to Chloe; while Lavinia was technically a trained tribute and therefore a Career, she felt the least like a Career of any of them, having only volunteered to protect Henderson, not for glory or anything like that. Chloe was rather sad when she had to leave them, though Lavinia made sure to send Chloe out with rosé flavored gummies, which Hestia promptly confiscated for herself.

Chloe didn't even know what rosé was.

The Capitol ceremony was held on the same stage where Chloe was interviewed, where she had publicly confirmed that she was transgender for the first time. It was bitter sweet to be up on that stage; in some ways, Chloe now was identical to Chloe then, and in some ways, the two girls were completely different. She wore the same golden ballgown for the ceremony that she would wear to the banquet immediately afterwards, as she would not have time to change. The Capitol ceremony was also the only ceremony for which she wore her crown. The ceremony itself was a formal affair, though not in the way that Thirteen's was formal. Here, Chloe was also presented with flowers, this time from the children of various Gamemakers and important Capitolite officials. She also presented the rings to Lyric and Silas, both of whom seemed very happy to see her.

Finally, at the end of the ceremony, Chloe presented the medallion boxes to the mayor of the Capitol who, as it turned out, was not Ruby. Chloe supposed that was the most fair. But the mayor didn't give Chloe her present in return. Rather, Ruby herself gave Chloe a very familiar-looking box.

"Is that…"

"Why don't you look inside?"

Chloe opened the box to find her very own ring; it was silver, with a gemstone in the color she'd selected for the Events, just like all of the other competitors had gotten. "For me?"

"Yes, dear."

Chloe looked up at Ruby with wide eyes and gave a small curtsy. But at a tiny little nod of Ruby's head, Chloe threw her arms around her in a tight hug. "This is the best gift of them all."

"Better than the cow?"

"Maybe not. But a close second."

The Capitol's banquet was a magical affair, but it went even later at night than the banquet in Two. It was already almost dawn by the time that Chloe staggered into the training center to sleep. When she woke up, she groggily shuffled over to Hestia, who was sitting on the couch, and curled up at her guardian's side. "Good morning," she yawned.

"Good morning, dear. Did you have fun on the Tour?"

"Yeah, it was really nice. Can we go home now?"

"No, honey. Today is Reaping Day so you have to open the Games tomorrow, and it doesn't make sense for you to go back and forth."

"But I'm not mentoring, right?"

"No, you'll go home as soon as you're tomorrow night."

"Good. I could sleep for forever."

* * *

 **Well, I hope that this chapter makes up for the severe lack of updates for like three months! (Fun fact, this was the longest chapter I've posted on this site since November of 2012, and the second longest ever.) But I wanted to make sure that I finished IDIDE1 so I didn't spoil anything by mistake. Did you like the chapter? We got to meet most of the living Victors in Panem here, as well as all of the competitors from last year's Events, so are there any that caught your eye? And what do you think of Chloe? As the first and currently only Events Victor, we'll be seeing a lot of her in this story.**

 **A couple of quick updates. First of all, I update the last chapter to make it less spoiler-free than it initially was, so feel free to check that out and review it on its own or with this chapter, or not at all if you want; the only important new piece of information in that chapter can also be found here. Also, now that my finals schedule is out, I can finally pick a date for subs to close! I will be closing submissions for this story on** **December 20** **th** **. My hope is to update every other week leading up to that point, with another side project in the works as well, so I might post the tribute list without posting a chapter to go along with that. I'm still working out those logistics but will let you know about them as soon as I know, and if I choose to post without a chapter I will let you know on the 16** **th** **the specific date and time the tribute list will be revealed. That is, assuming that I keep to those biweekly updates.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll hopefully see you again in two weeks!**

 **Yours,**

 **Goldie031**


	3. The 135th Games

Reaping Day always made Ruby a little bit nervous. After all, even with the Statutes system, choosing the wrong tribute could mean a massive uprising in any district. And while she much preferred to not watch and to give the tributes the benefit of the doubt, she knew that watching the Reapings would make her much saner and more prepared for what she would need to deal with. It would be much better, after all, to know beforehand whether or not she was dealing with a pure psychopath. Additionally, watching the Reapings gave Ruby more time to figure out which two tributes to tell Sami to rescue from the Arena. So, she and Amethyst sat in the Head Gamemaker's office in the Gamemakers' Complex, anxiously watching the Reapings unfold.

There was also something bittersweet about watching these Reapings with Amethyst. A few weeks prior, Amethyst had let her sister know that she would be stepping down as Head Gamemaker at the conclusion of the 135th Games. Amethyst had served as Head Gamemaker for more than 40 years, and was instrumental in streamlining the process of planning the Games to allow for both the Games and the Events to be planned at the same time. She also had been incredibly valuable through the transition to the Statutes system, helping the President to flesh out the idea and working through all of its kinks. As Amethyst and her assistant, Sami Rolo, had been working together carefully for many years, the transition of Sami into the role of Head Gamemaker would be mostly smooth. But Ruby would miss the quality time with her sister that working together for such a long time had given to them.

For the most part, things went about as could be expected: Eight reaped two children on rebel statutes, two tributes from One volunteered, there was the obligatory one tribute who was already in jail, et cetera. Eventually, it was time for Two's Reaping, which often took place later in the day because of how close Two was to the Capitol. Things started innocently enough; Two read the Treaty of Treason, presented its fourteen living Games Victors, and introduced their escort. (Ruby had been in close contact with Two about whether or not to present Chloe during the Reapings, but they all agreed that the further away the girl was from the Games, the better.) But as soon as Ruby looked at the Reaping bowls, she knew something was wrong. Two had kids on statutes, but they didn't have nearly as many kids on statutes as the number of slips in the bowls would suggest.

Instantly, Ruby pressed the button that indicated that the cameras in Two had gone out, as a method of stalling the Reaping. Instantly, the cameras cut to the seal of Panem, and a surveillance camera still rolling in Two showed that all action had stalled.

"What was that for?" asked Amethyst.

"Amethyst, I think something went wrong with Two's slips."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the bowls."

Amethyst studied the bowls carefully. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"So what do we do? I don't want to embarrass someone who isn't under a statute and call them up, and I'd rather be over-cautious than have the possibility of a mistake."

Amethyst thought for a second. "I think we can call Two and confirm with them that they have volunteers, which they will, because they're Two, and then give them permission to ask for volunteers before the slip is drawn. And once the Games Fairness Council member brings back the slips, you can check them yourself."

"Yeah, that works."

A quick phone call to Two set the Reaping back onto the right track. After receiving confirmation from Delphine that she understood Ruby's instructions, the camera hold was lifted, and two volunteers promptly took their places on stage to represent Two. For the time being, Ruby had avoided crisis.

When the slips returned to the Capitol, Ruby intercepted them and brought both the bags of slips and the Games Fairness Council representative to an emergency Council meeting. She aggressively set them down on the table, sifted through the bags, then pulled the name Myranda Lidano out of one and Plato Antoni out of the other. "Can one of you please explain to me how the bags of Events slips ended up in Two instead of the Games slips?"

"It's very simple," Lavender, whose had never looked more frazzled in her life. "We do not have enough capacity as a council of fourteen to manage two large-scale competitions in one year. It is simply too much work because we monitor everything from the get-go. We're just lucky that the mistake happened in Two instead of in Eight."

"Yes, because if one of the four kids in Eight not under a statute had been Reaped, my head would be on a pole in the middle of the district."

"So it's in all of our vested interest to find a better solution. I really can't see us handling both the Games and the Events at the same time. You need to make a separate council for the Games and the Events. The logistics of each and the things to be worried about are so different and both so overwhelming that I don't see us being able to do both anymore. I would certainly rather have more than an hour and a half of sleep a night."

"OK, I'll see what I can do," Ruby nodded. "I recognize that this was probably an oversight on my part, but we should all be glad that nothing went badly, or there would have been serious repercussions."

It turned out that the slips mishap was just the tip of the iceberg of bad from Ruby's perspective.

During training, Ruby met with Sami Rolo to determine who they would aim to rescue from the Games, if possible. They usually liked to have more than two options so that they would be guaranteed to get two out. In their conversation, they agreed that their first priority was the girl from Twelve, Alexandrina Cresta. She had been Reaped on a very unusual statute, one involving some sort of violation when her family moved from Eleven to Twelve. But, Twelve had the lowest number of children eligible under the statutes, and as they had chosen to combine their reaping bowls, they were forced to reap two kids. Clearly, the girl from Twelve was the best choice. But the second tribute who was to be saved was still up in the air as far as both Ruby and Sami were concerned; they decided to wait and see how the Games unfolded before making a final decision.

By halfway through the Games themselves, Ruby knew that they were going to be a disaster. The boy from Eleven, Abaddon Eastwood, had quickly formed an alliance of anyone who was reaped under a rebel statute, which turned out to only be him and the two from Eight, Riley Tamim and Synthia Ayres. It turned out that Abaddon was really strong; despite losing Synthia in the Bloodbath, Abaddon had emerged as potentially the strongest contender for Victory, with Riley just riding his coattails. The one silver lining during the first half of the Games was the successful rescue of Alexandrina thanks to a well-placed quicksand trap. Once the rescue was complete, Ruby made her way down to the rebels' headquarters to check in on her newest rescue and to notify the other rescued tributes of the new addition to the program.

"How's she doing?" Ruby asked Sami Rolo, one of only a few people who knew about the Capitol-sanctioned operation to rescue tributes from the Games and, at least for a little while longer, the head of the operation. The two had been in close contact since the announcement of Amethyst's stepping down, and had decided that Sami would continue to head the Capitol-sanctioned rebel group for her first year as Head Gamemaker so as to assist with the transition, before ceding control to another person who had already been carefully selected by Ruby, yet still acting as the person on the inside who would actually make the rescues happen.

"OK, from what I can tell," Sami replied. "She hasn't woken up yet, but I'm not sure whether to try to wake her up now or to let her sleep overnight."

"Did she actually knock out?"

"She 'suffocated' from the quicksand and we basically piped in anesthesia. So she would think she died so we could transport her easily."

"Well done. Let's tell the other tributes."

The first rescued tribute Ruby always told about the new rescuees was Sammy Coin, who had been Reaped under what was colloquially called the 13R statute. After the redistricting, when Ruby had attempted to resettle Thirteen, she had discovered an entire colony of people there, living incognito, whose existence her grandfather, President Snow, had conveniently neglected to tell her about. In response, Ruby put the entire population of Thirteen on a special statute; for five years, from the 130th through the 134th Games, every child from that group would be Games eligible both in the district in which they lived and in the special 13R bowl. It came to nobody's surprise that the first child reaped from that 13R bowl was Sammy Coin; after all, the Coins had been Thirteen's leaders for almost as long as the Snows, and from what Ruby understood, they had been almost equally as strict. But rather than let the child die, Ruby saw the opportunity that arose from rescuing them. They were the perfect person to give Ruby insider info on the rebels in Panem, as Thirteen had been in close contact with the rebels for a very long time. And so more likely than not, Sammy would never leave the Capitol, taking on important internal responsibilities just like Madaline Ohm had done.

Almost on cue, Sammy Coin appeared in the doorway. "I take it that we have a new addition coming?"

"Yes! Alexandrina Cresta, from Twelve."

"Interesting choice," Sammy smirked.

A pit formed in Ruby's stomach. "Why?"

"Alexandrina has rebel ancestry. Her family moved from Four to Eleven a while back to join the rebels."

"What?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure why they moved over to Twelve, though I'm sure Madaline could figure it out, but I'm sure they're related to the rebel branch of the Cresta family. Four was kind of a rebel-loyalist hybrid up until the near-rebellion around the Third Quell, but many of their rebels jumped ship when they saw that it didn't work; those who stayed rebellious either holed up in Four or were smuggled into Eight or Eleven."

"God damn it!" Saving a rebel was possibly the least ideal outcome of this whole operation; in fact, it was literally the thing that they tried most to avoid. Ruby needed someone who she knew would be unquestionably loyal, undoubtedly on her side. So, after shooing Sammy Coin out, she turned to Sami Rolo and said, "Rescue me a Career."

"What?"

"Rescue me a Career. Captiol, One, or Two, I don't care. I need a loyalist."

"But I thought we don't rescue tributes from those districts."

"I don't care. Rescue me a Career."

Luckily for Sami, the Career pack for the 135th Games had been a hot mess, so it was easy to pluck one of them out of the Arena via mutt. But when she met Brutus Trebonius in person, she could not believe that he was actually as dumb as he appeared to be during the Games. The tribute from Two couldn't follow all of the craziness of that year's Pack, and even a month after he was rescued, he still couldn't process that he was not, in fact, still in the Arena. But, he was loyal, just like Ruby wanted.

It turned out to be a very good thing for Ruby that she had saved someone who would be undoubtedly in her corner; predictably, Abaddon Eastwood continued his dominance in the Arena, and soon enough, he and Riley Tamim were crowned Victors of the 135th Hunger Games. All in all, as far as Ruby was concerned, the 135th Games were pretty much a disaster.

That was a great omen for a leadership transition.

* * *

 **Hmm, not all sunshine and rainbows in Panem, is it? Who do you think Ruby has tapped to take over for Sami? Will Ruby create an Events Fairness Council? Could this chapter just be random filler with no actual substance to it whatsoever?**

 **We've got just over a month till subs close, so I'm excited to see what you all have in store. I'll see you in two-ish weeks!**

 **-goldie031**


	4. Old Friends

"All right, Amos, what are we doing today?"

Amos placed his mug of tea down on the table and took out a tablet that served as his and Silas's planner. "Well, I actually think you have no formal public appearances today."

"That's a first."

Since the Events, Silas had been funneled back and forth with Lyric to various gatherings of wealthy and sometimes Games-crazy Capitolites. It seemed as though they had, at minimum, an event every three days. It wasn't that their job was difficult; they basically gave the same speech at every event, and they didn't spend a ton of time mingling with the Capitolites because they usually had school the next day. And sometimes they even got to both see their father, and try his food! Garo Rune was one of the top chefs in Panem who worked the most famous restaurant in the country, but that meant that he didn't get to cook much for his family, except when they went out to Garo's restaurant. But when Garo worked for a special event, Silas actually got to see them for once, and Garo would usually make sure to put one of Silas's favorite foods on the menu.

But all of these events were sucking up his time to do other things. Silas had a budding interest in fashion design that had waxed and waned since the redistricting of One, and while it had faded a bit since they moved to the Capitol, they were considering taking it up again. Silas was also interested in education about the gender binary – really the lack thereof – both in terms of learning more about it himself and about learning how to teach it. Most importantly, though, Silas would have much preferred to work on their training initiatives. Nearly six months since the Events, Silas and Amos had made no further progress on changes in the system because Silas was so busy. This was mostly frustrating because Silas just wanted to make positive changes in Panem that would benefit both him and other children and actually help them gain more skills in real life.

It was also partly frustrating because of Amos.

Not that Amos was frustrating. Well, he was frustrating. But _he_ wasn't frustrating. His existence was frustrating. No, his existence wasn't frustrating. What was frustrating was that Silas didn't spend enough time with Amos to figure out how they felt about his existence. Amos wasn't really around Silas on a regular basis, just checking in with them in the morning to go over their schedule and then occasionally taking them back and forth between events as kind of a personal press secretary. The only other time they got to spend together was when they were working on training, but then they were sometimes with President Emerald, further cutting down on the time that Silas had alone with Amos to figure out what the hell the feelings they were feeling about him were.

Hopefully they would figure it out someday. And maybe, if Amos could spend some time with them today, they could figure it out.

"Instead, you're meeting with your stylist who is going to get you ready for the Victory Tour stop today. The President and everyone will be there."

That was most definitely a formal public appearance.

* * *

Today was a somber day for District Two. As the Victors were crowned last night, today, the bodies of their two tributes, Brutus Trebonius and Lucille Elsinore, would return to the district. Today was the day that Two stopped, to respect and honor those tributes who were valiant warriors and the district's saviors. Everyone wore black or red, the color of mourning or the color of District Two pride, and everyone gathered together to respect those whom the district had lost; it was a day of district unity, of remembering the values that Two stood for.

But on this day, Myranda Lidano was feeling… not hurt, that wasn't the right word. Shafted and left out was a better way to put it.

See, returning to Two after representing your district was an honor; Victors who returned were presented with gladiator helmets (or olive wreaths, in Chloe's case), and later, during the Victor Tour, a glorious weapon, normally their weapon of choice and traditionally a sword if not. Victors would also get their portraits hung up in the Academy somewhere; even young Chloe had her picture up, in the room that the youngest trainees worked in, as a reminder that even the youngest in Two could accomplish greatness.

On the other hand, those who perished fighting for the honor of Two were rewarded with a funeral reserved for those who gave their lives in the Capitol. The bodies of the tributes were dressed in a trainee's outfit, covered in a black shroud with Two's seal on it in red, and placed on a wooden stretcher. The bodies would then process through the district until they reached the funeral pyres set up in the center of the cemetery; after a small ceremony, the pyres would be set alight, reducing the bodies to ashes, the biggest honor that the district forged in stone bestowed on anybody.

And yet, there had been no ceremony for Myranda. She had been escorted off the train unceremoniously and returned to training almost immediately even though everyone knew she could never compete in the Games. It was as if it was never acknowledged that she had represented Two; while Chloe got all of the glory of Victory, Myranda simply got lost in the shuffle.

But not showing up to the funeral of tributes was something unforgivable, unless you were very young, ill, or taking care of a child. So, however reluctant she was to do so, Myranda finished tying a red ribbon around her head and trudged over to the train, to meet the bodies and follow the procession. Soft chatter could be heard as everyone waited for the train to arrive; as soon as it pulled in, all talking ceased, and the district fell into a relatively orderly column behind the trainers of the two tributes, who bore their bodies to the graveyard.

When they arrived at the cemetery, Myranda was surprised to find that the layout had changed. The two stones on which the pyres were built were now a little bit further apart, with two stone podiums in between. Myranda wondered what brought about the change.

Delphine began the ceremony, talking about each tribute and the remarkable things that they had accomplished. Then a family member of each tribute spoke, as well as each of their personal trainees. But before the bodies were set aflame, Delphine broke from the traditional script. "The time has come for us to acknowledge one more brave woman who has represented our district. Would Myranda Lidano please step forward."

Surprised, and a bit nervous, Myranda stepped through the crowd and stood in front of Delphine, who gestured to one of the two podiums in the center of the pyres. As confidently as she could, Myranda stepped onto it, suddenly aware of just how many people lived in Two.

"Myranda Lidano made a sacrifice last winter just like Brutus and Lucille. She did not give up her life, but she did give up her chance to represent two in the Games by competing in the Events. Like Lucille and Brutus, you, Myranda, were unsuccessful; like Deidra, Demetrius, Hannibal, Chloe, and many others, you have returned alive but changed. Today, we wish to acknowledge both of these things, as we cut a lock of your hair and place it on top of Lucille's pyre. Just as a Victor would light the pyre of their district partner, so will Chloe be the one to cut your hair and drop it into the flames that engulf Lucille."

Myranda was a little taken aback by Delphine's words. She wanted to be acknowledged, but this wasn't exactly what she was expecting. Even so, it somehow felt perfectly right, the perfect way to acknowledge the change while allowing her to return to her normal life if she ever chose to.

She just hoped Chloe was more or less tall enough to make an even cut, because Myranda didn't expect to let that lock grow back fully for a long time, if ever. It was a sign of the changes in her, sure, but it was also a sign of her district's acceptance.

And that was the best part of all.

* * *

Since the death of his boyfriend, Owen, Sol Mikkelson's mental state had waxed and waned. Some days were great days for the man from Four, and some days were… much less great. Potentially the worst day, though, was the day that Sol returned home to Four. It weighted on him very heavily that he had succeeded in something that Owen hadn't: coming back to Four from the Capitol. And so while Sol was very grateful to see his parents and his many siblings again, he felt profoundly the loss that he had suffered a year and a half prior. And while he was happy for his brother Dominic, who was engaged, it just made the pain in Owen's heart a little bit bigger.

Once Sol was out of the public eye, he retreated back into the shell that he had almost completely come out of before the Events. He again stopped painting, unable to pick up the brushes that had created such gorgeous things for Owen. It was only at the urging of two of his youngest siblings to teach them how to paint that he was even able to pick up a tube of shamrock green, his lucky color of paint. And he didn't really have anybody to confide in in Four; his closest friend had been, of course, Owen. Sol, a generally positive person, didn't like being stuck in this rut of sadness and negativity, but there was seemingly nothing and nobody who could help him out.

And then one day, it dawned on Sol. Of course it would be bad to forget Owen, but perhaps, by talking to someone about how he was feeling, they could help him find a way to fix it. It would almost be a relief, a way of admitting for the first time that not everything about Sol could always be positive, and that that was OK. And who better to ask than someone whose job it was to know Owen quite well: his mentor, Zander, who had also happened to be Sol's Events mentor as well?

It took him a while to work up the courage. But on the anniversary of Owen's death, when Sol reached the lowest of low points, he finally worked up the courage to knock on Zander's door.

"Hello there, Sol. What brings you here?"

"I need… I need help."

"What's wrong?"

"Owen."

Zander nodded slowly. He ushered Sol into his home and made him a cup of tea, like the host he'd been trained to be by the older mentors in his district. The two talked for a long time that day, which turned out to be exactly the right decision; his conversation with Zander helped Sol to understand for the first time the deepest pain of the loss of Owen. See, it wasn't just that Owen had died. It was that, by stepping off of his platform, it felt that Owen had left Sol. "Maybe if I know the reason why Owen left me, I would feel better. Like, even if he was suicidal, it would be OK. But I want to know why."

"Are you sure?" Zander asked nervously.

"Yes, I'm sure."

* * *

Around the halfway point of the Games, Sage Davidson received an alert on his tablet. "Oh, Kira, check this out!" Sage called. "I think the president rescued another tribute!"

Kira Mazda, the woman with whom Sage lived, came into the kitchen. "That's exciting. Do you have any guesses who it is before you look at the alert?"

"Hmm. I'm not used to watching the Games and looking for these cues," Sage admitted.

"Well, I've been out for five years longer than you," smiled Kira. "I'll tell you if I was right after you read the alert."

"That's no fair! Then you'll definitely be right!"

"Do I have any reason to lie to you?"

Sage gave Kira a knowing look, then looked at the alert on the tablet. "It's not a tribute name. Ruby wants to video chat with me."

"Interesting. Let's go into the lockdown room." Kira and Sage journeyed into the small, inner, windowless room in their house and locked the door. Checking to make sure there were no holes, they quickly programmed the tablet into video-call mode.

Soon enough, Ruby's face appeared on the tablet. "Hello, Madam President."

"Hi, Sage and Kira. I don't have much time to talk but I need you two to do some reconnaissance for me in Eight if you can."

"Of course! That's what we're here for," Sage responded quickly.

"Great. So, here's the deal. I need you to do whatever you can to find out information about Alexandrina Cresta and her family."

Kira nodded. "Is she the one you just rescued?"

"Yep," grimaced Ruby. "According to Sammy Coin, she has some sort of rebel family connections, but oddly enough, her statute is not for rebel activity. Obviously we can't change who we're saving now, but I want to know what exactly we're dealing with here."

Sage and Kira glanced at each other. "How do you suggest we do that?" Kira asked. "If she's never passed through Eight I doubt there will be records."

"And we don't really have an in with the rebels," added Sage. "My friends are moderates at best."

"So many kids in Eight are on some rebel statute or another," Ruby replied. "I really think you guys can find a way."

"But won't it be…"

"…suspicious?"

"I mean, maybe. But not necessarily. I think you guys can do it. I have to go supervise the Games, but good luck! I trust you." And with that, she clicked off.

"That didn't seem good," Kira said, shaking her head.

"It seemed all to familiar to what happened in the Events with me, her trying to keep tabs on a situation that isn't necessarily her place to keep tabs on."

"The Myranda-Liana one?"

"Yeah. And there's also a lot of turnover about to happen in the Captiol, right?"

"Yeah, a new head Gamemaker, Sami. And someone's gonna take over for her, I hope."

Sage sighed. "You know? I wonder if all of this turnover is making Ruby worried about losing control."

"That might make a lot of sense."

* * *

In the days since the Statutes system had been implemented, the Games had turned into a welcome event for many of the children of Panem. Well, maybe not totally welcome. There were still parts of it that were mandatory viewing. And there was still a certain fear struck into children that came with seeing people their age being killed for things that either they or their parents did. But the Games meant summer break, from July 23, two days before the Reapings, until the Games ended or August 31, whichever came first. It had always been that way; now, though, most of the children didn't have to worry about losing their break from school – or their lives, for that matter.

If anybody was ready for summer break, it was Ramona Wayland. After all, she had totally missed her winter break, as the First Events were scheduled during that time. It was smart of the district to do so; Ramona had returned to Ten without missing any schoolwork. But she really needed time to socially recharge; it wasn't that she was an introvert, it was that she… was very reserved in private, way more than she was with her friends. And being the center of attention after the Events had been difficult for her. So Ramona was looking forward to spend some time with her friend group as opposed to with every single twelve through fifteen year old at school.

When Ramona got home, she did what she usually did after getting home from school: she grabbed a book and found the shade of a tree to sit under. But she hadn't read more than three or four sentences when she heard the pattering footsteps of her friend, Samira, behind her. "Ramona! Ramona! I have news!"

"What's up?"

"Alexei's back for break!"

"What?"

"Yeah! I thought you knew that."

"I think I knew it subconsciously, but I didn't think about it."

"Do you want to come over to his house with me to say hi? I feel like I haven't seen him in ages. You're lucky that you got to see him during the Events!"

Lucky was not exactly the word Ramona would use to describe it. In fact, the thing that she wanted to remember the least was that she and Alexei were in the Events together. She was always happy to think about some of the other competitors she'd met, Chloe, the Victor, Wins, Alder, even Morrel, that studious wet blanket. But the Events had… torn her and Alexei apart to say the least. She had loved him, but he had totally brushed her off. And it had deeply, deeply hurt her.

And yet, there was a small part of her that had begun to wonder whether she had actually loved him or whether it was an act of clinging to a small piece of home. The longer that she spent apart from Alexei, the less upset she was at him. She wasn't sure if she missed him, but she certainly didn't despise him the way that she had right when she got home; in fact, it was after she had thrown away the last letter she received from him that those pained feelings began to cease. She still couldn't tell if she wanted another letter from the boy, but she certainly… mostly… probably… maybe was ready to face him again.

But today was not that day. She needed time to socially recharge, after all.

* * *

Today was the day that Mallory Farro had been preparing for since she had returned from the Events. And yet, she was not excited. Sure, she wanted nothing more than to get away from her parents. Returning to their house after the Events had been potentially the most mentally damaging thing to ever happen to her mentally. She couldn't tell if it had been because she'd gotten used to having independence, autonomy, and not being abused, or because her parents had gotten worse since she'd gotten back from the Capitol to "make up for lost time," or a mix of both. While her parents weren't home, she would go down to Victors' Village to spend some time with Ivie, her first friend ever, but after not quite making it home in time once, she swiftly learned her lesson, spending less and less time outside of the house. She just… she couldn't risk getting hurt again.

But through it all, Ivie noticed. For the first time, Mallory knew what it was like to have someone care for her, for someone to be concerned about her and her well-being. And as Mallory spent less and less time with Ivie, Ivie came to her house more and more to check up on her. One day, Ivie didn't quite make it out before the parents returned; the next day, when she returned to check on Mallory, the girl's nose was completely bloody, bruised, and black-and-blue.

"What happened?" Ivie asked, giving Mallory a tight hug.

"After you left… my parents… they…"

That was the last straw for Ivie. Ivie, who had been given her statute for standing up to the son of a Peacekeeper. Ivie, who hadn't even laid a hand on that child, who had just been given that statute because of how high up the child was. Ivie, who had spent the entire time hat she had been a Victor standing up for the injustice she'd seen in the class divisions between the field-workers and the Peacekeepers, only seeing a little bit of progress. It didn't matter that Mallory was the product of the same system that had deeply wronged her. Ivie would do whatever she could to protect her.

"Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to the Justice Building to report your parents for abuse."

"No. No no no I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because then I have to go back home after turning them in."

"No, you don't. You'll come home with me. Or you'll go into a Community Home for a bit and then we'll adopt you."

"But kids of reported abusers only have a five-day grace period before they have to go back home. What if they don't do anything by then?"

"They will. You're white, and the child of Peacekeepers. They have to take action for you."

And so, still protesting a little bit, Mallory was marched down to the Justice Building. But with every step she took, she protested a little bit less. There was danger to this, sure, but this was the moment when she could finally attain the freedom she'd tasted during the Events, free from her parents' grasp. By the time she entered the Justice Building, she was confident, ready to say the words that she'd waited for so long to say to an official.

"I would like to report my parents, Quinoa and Teff Farro, on numerous counts of child abuse."

* * *

It was just after the Victory Tour ended that the rumors started flying. And in Twelve, rumors flew fast.

Being the center for medicine in Panem, people from across the country cycled through the hospitals and other medical centers in Twelve, some staying for longer than others. And they would bring with them news coming from their districts. Whether it was drama over a patent in Three, a training scandal in Two, or the offhand piece of rebel news coming in from Eight or Eleven, making small talk to patients and their families was a great way to find out that information, so long as you asked the right patients and families.

Right after the Tour left Nine, a patient and their mother arrived in Twelve from Nine. The patient was having a small outpatient procedure, a tonsillectomy. And their mother was quite the chatterbox. Soon enough, the little bit of gossip that Mrs. Maydoloo brought with her made its way to the Hob, as all gossip did. Thanks to the large network of coffee shops, pubs, and restaurants, if you wanted to know anything about what was happening anywhere in Panem, the Hob was your best bet.

"What's the news, Tony?" Sharen Cantiano asked as she took a seat at The Phoenix's bar.

"I've got some from Nine," said Tony, as he slid a stein of beer over to her. It didn't matter that she was still underage; she was seventeen! That was old enough to drink beer, at least; after all, it had a very low alcohol content.

"Fire away."

"So the Tour just stopped in Nine, right? And you know how they honored all of the competitors at the ceremonies?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it had been noticed in Nine that Aviel Nitsa hadn't been seen much. You know? Like you don't always realize when someone is missing until they come back."

Sharen raised an eyebrow and took a sip of beer. "Yeah?"

"Apparently he lived on the border of two school districts and each one was told that he was now attending the other, and they're so far away from each other that they didn't corroborate their records."

"Interesting." Sharen took another sip.

"So obviously the rumors start to fly. Was he imprisoned? Has he just been expelled? What's up? And then Mrs. Maydoloo's child's best friend's younger sister's aunt's… I lost track of the relationship but of course Mrs. Maydoloo knew it. Anyway. They spotted a purple bracelet around Aviel's ankle. Now, as you know, despite Eight's color being purple, purple is the official color for government business and such. So if Aviel is wearing a purple bracelet…"

"It means he's some form of government property."

"Bingo. But, he wasn't wearing any kind of government uniform, he didn't look emaciated, and he could still talk."

"Avoxing hasn't been a thing for twenty-five years."

"Anyway. Point is, he's official government property, but he didn't appear to be mistreated or anything of the sort. Which made Mrs. Maydoloo think that he's somehow been employed by the government."

Sharen tried her best to keep a straight face. But it was really hard to not let her anger show through. Sure, this was all gossip. But if it had even a smidgen of truth in it, then somehow the worst person in the Events had somehow managed to come out of things… well. And that was completely not fair. Something had to be done about that!

Sharen had already put Aviel in his place once. She was fully prepared to do it again.

* * *

 **What do you think of our seven friends here? Some of you might recognize these characters from this story's prequel, IDIDE1! Silas, Myranda, Mallory, Sage, Sharen, Ramona, and Sol are seven of the eight IDIDE1 competitors who are going to get a focus in this story. We will see others from, though not all of, the IDIDE1 group in this story, but it would not be feasible to focus on 28 IDIDE1 competitors and 28 IDIDE2 competitors at the same time. I chose the eight focal competitors because of specific plotlines I want to pull from IDIDE1 into IDIDE2, not because of who I like better or anything like that.**

 **Anyway, what do you think of my choices? Which plotlines do you think I'll be focusing on? Is there a favorite? Who do you think is the eighth focal character?**

 **One other important thing before I go is an update to the submission deadline and how I'm going to close subs. I have decided to push the deadline back to _December 27th_. I may close some slots on the 20th, but if you PM me and say that you intend to submit to a slot, I will accept that submission up to the 27th even if you don't have it in on the 20th. **

**Additionally, I will not be doing a formal release of a tribute list for this story. Instead, I will be sending individual private messages confirming the acceptance of your character, and you will have a span of _two weeks_ to confirm. Tribute names will be added to my profile as they're introduced, which I think is also kind of fun!**

 **I know this was a lot of info; please let me know through PM or otherwise if you have any questions. I'm hoping to be updating weekly from here on out, so I'll see you next week!**

 **Yours,  
** **goldie031**


	5. The Victors, Part 1

_The Capitol: Leadership_

* * *

These had not been the best Games for the Capitol. Both of their tributes had been so promising, yet had not been nearly as successful as Lavinia or Henderson Dellorte had hoped. But, in true Capitolite fashion, Lavinia had quickly recovered from the death of two more tributes and was ready to prepare for the Events. She would not actually be mentoring; for one thing, she hadn't ever been on the list of approved Events mentors, and for another, Ruby had, by some miracle, approved both of the Capitol Competitors from the First Events, Lyric Cloud and Silas Rune, to mentor for the Second. That meant that she and Henderson would be able to take a well-deserved break after some _very_ challenging mentoring during the 134th Games. Socializing with Capitolite sponsors was _so_ exhausting, and of course Lavinia just _had_ to have a mimosa at every event.

Mentoring was really such a trying time.

"When are Silas and Lyric coming over?" asked Henderson, her husband.

"In a little bit. Is the food almost ready?"

"Yes, almost," Henderson nodded, getting confirmation from the servant/cook/hired help who lived with them.

"Excellent." Just then, the doorbell rang. "Ooh! They're here!" Ever the effervescent host, Lavinia ran over to the door as quickly as she could without falling in her heels or spilling her mimosa. She opened the door and greeted Silas and Lyric with a kiss on each cheek. "Darlings, welcome, welcome!"

"Thank you so much for your hospitality," gushed Lyric.

"Oh, it's no problem. Drink?"

"Well, I'm not…"

"Don't worry," winked Lavinia, handing each of them a mimosa. "You won't get in trouble on my watch." Lyric politely declined, but Silas politely took the mimosa, even though they much preferred a rum and coke.

After a very lavish meal, Silas elected to get down to business. "So, while we're really quite thrilled to be invited here, I'm guessing there was some sort of impetus for this."

"No, I just love company!" Lavinia was now a bit buzzed.

"Lavinia, dear," the less drunk Henderson nudged, "the medallions. I'll go grab them."

"Right."

Henderson slipped out into the hallway, then came back in with two sleek wooden boxes. "So, we got these on the Victory Tour. They come with a message. Why don't you take a look?"

Silas and Lyric each took a box and carefully opened it up, revealing a medallion with the word Leadership on it and a crown engraved in its center. "Please present this medallion to a child between the ages of twelve and eighteen who best represents this value," Lyric read, then looked over at Silas's box to confirm that his said the same thing. "Is this for the Events?"

"Yes," Henderson explained. "Both of our competitors must in some way exemplify the value of leadership."

"That's a pretty good value! Definitely fits the Capitol. And it feels kind of easy to find, yeah?"

Henderson nodded slowly. "In theory, yes. But Ruby still needs to approve the two children we choose before we present them with the medallions on Drawing Day. And I have a hunch that if we just choose two student council presidents, she'll veto it. One, maybe. Two, probably not."

"So if we shouldn't pick the two obvious options, how do we choose?"

* * *

 _District One: Commitment_

* * *

"So there's no guidance on how to choose," confirmed Winsley Vwystrom, scanning through the instructions that the president had sent over.

"Correct," Jasmine confirmed, having read the document prior. "We just need to choose two Reaping-age kids who fit our district value."

"And that is?"

"Take a look." Jasmine passed a box to Wins, and the other to Jessamine Rogers, Wins's district partner from the First Events. One had also gotten lucky that both of their Victors were permitted to mentor. Jasmine and Steven were both perfectly capable of mentoring, especially as they were the permanent Events mentors now in One, but they recognized the value of having competitors who had actually competed in the Events mentor the next generation, so to speak. Admittedly, this year was already proving to be dramatically different from the previous year, which called into question exactly how helpful Jess and Wins would be in that case. But it was probably a generally better shot than two Careers, albeit two Careers who hadn't ever really killed.

Jess carefully opened the box, revealing a medallion with two interlocking rings engraved in its center. "Commitment. That's a good value!"

"It is," Jasmine smiled. Though neither Wins nor Jess had formally trained, they recognized the commitment that it took to train in One's Academies. Tributes like Ravi Waterford and Arieyn Occisor had spent their entire lives training in small, skill-specific Academies, committing to learning one weapon or tactic really well. And unlike in Two, where training was worked into the school system of the district, trainees in One often needed to give up precious time after school to hone their craft. You had to be really committed to training, because you had to give up a lot for your craft, for something that would be questionably useful when you aged out of the Reaping.

"I like how we have a say in who goes in this year," mused Steven. "Commitment is also a great value because it's really vague. We can kind of twist a lot of things in there."

"That's true," Jasmine replied. "But we also gotta pick smart."

"How are we gonna pick?" asked Wins.

"Well, I was thinking about this, and I think it's going to be best if Jasmine and I choose them. We have already a very clear database of the trainees in One that you guys don't have access to; I think we'll divide the districts' kids in half somehow and then each pick one. That way we know that we won't pick the same kid. I trust Jasmine's judgment and she trusts mine. And then we'll bring them together after we submit their names to President Emerald."

"That sounds good to me," said Jess. Wins nodded along.

"It's a good system because we're putting some thought into who we're picking, at least," asserted Jasmine. "I have this feeling that Two isn't going to think too much about their competitors."

"Two barely likes the Events, from what I heard from Chloe," Wins piped up. "I think they're gonna try to throw two people in there not thinking about anything, just to get things over with."

"And putting thought into this could be the difference between winning and not winning," said Steven. "Two already managed the first Events Victor; we can't let an outer district beat us to the second one."

"What if Two wins again?" asked Jess innocently.

"Oh, that would be even worse."

* * *

 _District Two: Strength_

* * *

"I'm confused as to why you did something for Myranda," Demetrius Sene whispered to Delphine Pix-Lits as the two made their way back to Victor's Village. "She did not give her life for our district. Why honor her?"

"Because she represented our district proudly."

"In the Events," scoffed Demetrius.

"Remember that she was a trainee and was sixth-ranked in her year at the last checkpoint before the Events, which is very impressive. More importantly, if we treat the Events as any less than the Games, we might lose Capitol funding for the Academies. Ruby wants these Events to succeed, clearly, or she wouldn't put energy into them."

"But they don't bring the glory of the Games!"

"We also then aren't sending children to either their death or definite psychological damage for the rest of their lives."

"I have no psychological damage!"

"Of course not, dear."

If there was any Victor in a difficult position in Two, it was Delphine Pix-Lits. On the one hand, she recognized better than anyone else the hardships of the Games, and the strong toll they could take on those who emerged, whether they knew it or, in the case of Demetrius, not. Seeing how calm and kind Chloe was had a great effect on the rest of the Victors, and Delphine did wonder what it would be like if everyone was as well-adjusted as Chloe was coming right out of the Capitol. On the other hand, the Games were so culturally ingrained in Two that it would be hard to enable the shift, if not impossible, and certainly not totally in her lifetime. It would take small actions, like recognizing Myranda's commitment to her district, over a long period of time to make that happen.

And, admittedly, Delphine wasn't even sure that she wanted it to happen.

But now was not the time to dwell on that. Myranda, Chloe, Arabelle, and Hannibal Lector were all coming over to see what was in the boxes they'd been given during the Tour, so Delphine had to be ready for company. When she arrived home, Delphine checked on her husband before tidying up the house a little bit and preparing some hors d'oeuvres and cocktails for her guests. Right as she finished, the doorbell rang, with all four standing on her doorstep.

"Hi, Delphine!" Chloe waved enthusiastically.

"Hello, everyone. Come on in." The four followed Delphine into the dining room. "Drinks?" She offered the cocktails to Hannibal, Arabelle, and Myranda, who graciously took them. Then, she looked at Chloe. "Huh. You're not even close to 18." It had been 35 years since someone as young as Chloe won, and those were very unusual circumstances.

"Nope!"

"Well, I can offer you some water… maybe I have some grape juice?"

"Don't worry, I'm OK with water."

"All right." After getting Chloe a glass of water, Delphine picked up a pair of wooden boxes and placed them on the table. "As I suspected, the contents of the boxes do relate to the Events. And I'm actually very excited about what's inside." Delphine opened one of the boxes to reveal the medallion it contained, its center engraved with a man bearing what seemed to be a whole mountain on its back.

"What is that?" asked Chloe

"We are supposed to present this medallion to a child who best represents the value of strength. There's another in the other box. Those two will represent us in the Events."

Delphine looked up at Hannibal, who instantly registered why strength was such a good value: the two competitors who were picked for the Events would be excited to be picked because they would be considered the two strongest children in Two.

Sure, they'd be ineligible for the Games. But they would be, and would nearly always have the title of, the _strongest._

* * *

 _District Four: Courage_

* * *

One thing that Ariel Marsh had never been was the typical District Four beach babe. Sure, she'd spent time at the beach. But she wasn't like the others in the district who lounged, tanning, for the entirety of summer break. The beach for her was either for a special treat or for adventure. And today was precisely the day for adventure. After all, what better way to get connected to District Four's value, courage, than to go out on the water itself?

Ariel finished braiding her hair, then checked the contents of the bag. After verifying that everything was in there, she grabbed her sunhat and headed down to the shore.

Arriving at the shore, Ariel was unsurprised that Sol had arrived first; he was sitting at the top of the beach, a little bit too calm. "Hi, bud!" she exclaimed, putting down her bag and opening up her arms for a perfectly fraternal hug from Sol. Ariel was fairly confident that she was both aromantic and asexual, a significant setback for her plans to have children someday, and Sol was decidedly gay. And yet, Capitolites still insisted that the two fairly attractive young mentors should date and get married. It was further proof that Capitolites simply couldn't understand any form of logic, but Sol and Ariel both found it kind of funny. The bond that they'd formed since the Events, though, was one of true friendship, and they were excited to be mentoring a new pair of competitors through the Fourth Events, just the two of them; Amazon, being the mother of a fifteen-month-old, had been excused, and the Victors in Four had decided that Ariel could handle the Events on her own, with Zander as an extra pair of hands if they needed him to be.

"Hey, Ariel! What's in the bag?"

"Oh, you know. Sunscreen, an extra rash guard and coverup, two umbrellas, motion sickness medicine, all that fun stuff."

"Oh, lighten up. We're here to have fun!"

"But we need to be safe while out on the water. Have you applied sunscreen yet?"

"Maybe?"

"Well, apply again, just in case." Ariel rummaged through her bag and pulled out a can of sunscreen, which she handed to Sol, and a face stick.

"What SPF is this?"

"One hundred, one fifty, I don't know."

"That's insane."

"Put it on. A sunburn would be very bad."

"We live in Four. We get them all the time."

"You're surprisingly calm to be going out who knows how far."

"Uh-huh!" Sol nodded overenthusiastically. "I'm calm!"

After applying sunscreen, Sol handed the can back to Ariel, who wiped around the nozzle and slid it back into her bag. Then, the two waited around totally calmly until Zander Neptune arrived. The older Victor had taken up sailing in his spare time and was considered remarkably competent at it. "Hello, mentors! Are you guys ready to go out on the ocean?"

The two looked at each other, then looked at Zander and kind of loosely nodded. They were courageous! Just like the lions on the medallions. Definitely courageous.

* * *

 _District Eight: Ingenuity_

* * *

It was a miracle, something out of a dream. After twenty-four years, Eight had finally gained another Victor. And out of a rebel statute, at that. Needless to say, Neelee and Rose were thrilled. But since it had been nearly a quell since they'd gotten a Victor, neither really knew how to help that new Victor adjust to life outside of the Arena.

But they would find a way. They had to.

The two women sat in the dining car, sipping some well-deserved celebratory champagne, when young Riley appeared, looking hollower and more shaken up than they did even in the Arena. The women looked at each other, then extended their arms to Riley, who ran and flung themselves into Neelee's arms. Riley had never been the strongest tribute, physically or emotionally, but this was the lowest that either of the women had ever seen them.

"Riley, what's wrong?"

"I… I… (hic) I'm scared."

"What do you have to be scared of?" asked Rose.

"I… w… b… Abbadon. Now Ruby's gonna think I'm a rebel! I don't wanna be like my parents and be against the Capitol. I like the Events! I like Ruby! And Abbadon just wanted to win to say… say… to stick it to her! What is she gonna do to me?"

Rose and Neelee exchanged knowing glances. "Oh, honey. Ruby won't do anything to you."

"How do you know?"

"Because she approved you already as a mentor for the Events," explained Neelee.

"Huh?"

Neelee showed Riley a tablet, into which she had plugged the flash drive from the President. "Read here."

"'For the Second Events, all of the approved mentors from the First Events will be allowed to mentor. Sage Davidson, who competed in the First Events, should be strongly encouraged to mentor; Serenity Capiere has been excused from mentoring duties. Additionally, Riley Tamim has been approved as a mentor for the Second Events.'"

"She wouldn't have you mentor if she didn't trust you to not be rebellious. As you get older, you'll learn that the rebels in Eight and Eleven think with zero logic; they oppose the Events solely because they're something from the Capitol, and it doesn't matter to them that Ruby is so much better for this country than her predecessors. You've demonstrated, somehow, that you don't want to be a rebel, and she believes you."

"How did I do that?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't complain. I have a feeling Abbadon will not have as easy of a time in Victory as you will."

"And now I don't have to live with my parents anymore either, right? I mean, they got me into this mess in the first place."

"Correct."

Riley nodded calmly. "That's good." They paused for a moment, getting a little bit excited. "I'm excited to mentor for the Events. Is there anything we need to do?"

"You don't need to think about that quite yet."

"But it'll be a good way to get my mind off of the Arena. You know something about what we have to do! Please tell me…"

"Fine," yielded Neelee. She disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a wooden box. "So in this box is a medallion. We're going to present this medallion to someone who exemplifies the value that our district has been assigned: ingenuity."

"What's ingenuity?"

"It's like, being clever and creative and all that stuff. Like getting yourself out of sticky situations."

"Oh." Riley opened the box and peered at the medallion it contained. "What's on it?"

Rose and Neelee looked at the medallion, then at each other, then back at the medallion. "I think we might need ingenuity to figure out what it is."

* * *

 _District Ten: Friendship_

* * *

The 135th Games were not the Games for Ten. Not that any Games were good, but it had been at least a decade since two tributes from the same district had gone out first and second. On the one hand, it put the tributes and the mentors out of their misery early. But for a district whose last Victor came at the 119th Games, it wasn't a good look. Admittedly, none of the Ten mentors were particularly sad that neither of their tributes came home; one had launched an attack on one of the empty Victor's Village homes thinking that Michelle and her family lived there, and the other had wiped out an entire herd of dairy cattle in the district. So while they were slightly disappointed in themselves from the district pride perspective, they would have been almost as nervous if they'd managed to bring one of their tributes home.

Losing your tributes early meant that you could return home early. So as things got crazier and crazier in the Arena, and worse and worse as far as Ruby was concerned, the Ten mentors were able to scoot out and avoid the craziness that would ensue. So, on the day that the Games ended, while many other mentors were watching anxiously in the Capitol, Zolt, Bessie, and Michelle sat in Zolt's living room, pretending to watch the Games but really just talking. They knew from the moment that it came down to Abbadon, Riley and one of the tributes from Three that it was really only a matter of time until they found each other and the rebel pair would win, so it wasn't quite worth it to watch anymore. The mentors' true interest lay in something else.

As soon as the Three tribute's cannon fired, Zolt, Michelle, and Bessie ran over to the boxes that Ruby had sent to Ten with Chloe. If the boxes were to open right after the Games, they were clearly incredibly important, because almost nothing was allowed to overshadow the post-Games process. And it seemed as though the boxes themselves wanted to be noticed; they were playing Panem's anthem and glowing brightly. The mentors watched excitedly as the lid of the box opened automatically.

"Please present this medallion to a child between the ages of twelve and eighteen who best represents this value," read Bessie aloud. The three looked down at the medallion in the box, which was engraved with two people who seemed to be getting along very well. "Friendship! How nice! But what is this for?"

"For the Events, I bet," mused Michelle. She lifted up one of the medallions to reveal a… stick. "But what's this?"

"It's a flash drive," Zolt giggled. Arguably the smartest of the Ten mentors, and definitely the most tech-savvy, Zolt was the only one who knew what a flash drive was or, for that matter, how to use it. She plugged it into a tablet and quickly read over the file it contained. "Yep, for the Events. We're going to choose two kids for the Events, of any gender, who exemplify friendship."

"So we just need two kids with friends," Bessie smiled. "That's easy enough."

"I don't think that's quite enough," Michelle replied. "I think we need kids who are true friends, who really support those around them."

"If they're friends with each other, even better, because they're competing as a pair," Zolt mentioned. "And here's another one for ya: both Kitt and Ramona were approved to mentor."

"That's good, right?" Bessie offered. "More hands."

"Yeah, but they have to mentor two people who are supposed to represent friendship."

"Everybody has friends, though!"

Michelle suddenly caught on. "Yes, but Ramona lost a friendship in the Events, and Kitt has only ever wanted a romantic interest, not a friendship."

"Oh. Well, that's ironic."

* * *

 _District Eleven: Perseverance_

* * *

"So, as we all expected, Abbadon was not approved by Ruby to mentor for the Events," Quiinn told Ivie as the two walked along Victors' Lane.

"Yeah, I can't say I expected anything else," Ivie acknowledged. "But I'm not so upset; I can't say I would be comfortable mentoring alongside him, and I honestly don't love that he won in the first place."

As a matter of fact, none of Eleven's Victors were too thrilled about Abbadon's Victory. They all recognized the danger that came with having a Victor who was openly rebellious, and what that said about him, his mentors, and the rest of the district. It was pretty clear that the other tribute from Eleven, who was Reaped under a much lesser statute, was everyone's preference for Victor, with the obvious exception of Eleven's rebels. The problem was that, if the Victors put in any less work to bring a rebel tribute home than a non-rebel tribute, it would undoubtedly lead to attacks on their houses and families, a lesson that they'd learned the hard way during the 127th Games. So they'd had no choice but to give Abbadon a fighting chance, an action that might have seriously hindered their relationship with the Capitol.

"Yeah, well, you'll probably need to eventually. If nothing else, Abbadon winning takes weight off of all of us as mentors."

"Unless he breeds more Eleven tributes who are just as rebellious as he. We'll never win if the only tributes from our district who win are rebels!"

"Well, that's why we have the Events. We'll never have to worry about rebels winning, because they probably won't be eligible. Speaking of eligible, here's some good news: both Mallory and Crixus are eligible Events mentors. The specific phrasing Ruby used was 'strongly encouraged' or something like that, but we both know that that means they have to mentor."

"Right."

"I think you're more than capable of mentoring on your own with the two of them, but if you want, Skylar or Beckia can come as well as more of a support system."

"Yes, that makes sense."

The two had arrived at Quiinn's home. "Now, I know you have to go, but I wanted to show you one thing really quickly before you head out. Can you wait like two minutes?"

"Sure." Quiinn ducked inside the house, then quickly reemerged with a wooden box. "So in this box is a medallion with our district value on it; we'll be selecting two competitors who in some way fit this district's value." He opened it up for Ivie to read; her eye first caught the giant mountain engraved in the center of the medallion before it drifted up to the word engraved above it.

"Perseverance?!"

"Yep, that's what they gave us."

"Why?"

"Something about persevering to grow crops and how hard that is, yadda yadda."

"I'm sure they didn't think about giving perseverance to Panem's poorest district, right?"

"No, they did not. But the values haven't been revealed to the district yet. We can figure out how to frame it best later on. And hey, at least one of our mentors definitely fits perseverance."

"That's true."

"All right, I'll let you go. Where are you on your way to?"

"Mallory's parents' trial and sentencing."

* * *

 **Well, this is a very late update if you're on Eastern Time, but I had 16 hours of tech rehearsal today, so this is what we get. It's almost still Sunday!**

 **For the record, the images on the medallions are based directly off of the Endurance pyramid pieces, so feel free to look those up to see what I'm working with. I don't expect you to have better luck figuring out what's on that Ingenuity piece than I did, but if you can, you'll get massive kudos.**

 **Anyway, what did you think of this chapter? Was there any section that surprised you? Did you have a favorite section? Who are you excited to see mentor? Was there a pattern to which districts were featured?  
**

 **A quick reminder that subs are due in on the 27th. Please spread the word! Also, go vote on the SYOT Awards on the SYOT Alliance forum! We really want to get as many readers as possible voting to have the most diverse awards possible.**

 **I'll see you next week to check in with the other 13 districts!**

 **-goldie031**


	6. The Victors, Part 2

_District Three: Luck_

* * *

It was very unusual for districts to feel less confident in their tribute's ability to win the further in the Games they got. But that was the situation for the District Three team. They knew that neither of their tributes was particularly strong, and if it came down to one of them, Riley, and Abbadon, there was no way the Three tribute would manage to win. And even though Three had brought home five Victors since the legendary drought, every loss struck fear into Three's citizens that they were about to have the same problems that had plagued the district for more than a half-century, and every Victor was a welcome sigh of relief.

The worst part about it, though, was that the Three mentors couldn't leave the Capitol until their tributes died. So even though their tribute was almost guaranteed to lose, they couldn't totally refocus towards the Events.

That was not good luck for Three at all.

Fortunately, they'd had the sense to bring the boxes that Ruby had sent to Three with Chloe along, "they" being Byte. It was her tribute who had died earlier on in the Games, giving her ample time to analyze the boxes to no end until it was time to open them. In fact, she was holding them in the mentor room at the exact moment that the cannon of Giovano's tribute fired. A part of her wanted to go and comfort him, but her innate curiosity overtook her as the box began to glow brightly.

"Edison!" called Byte to her co-mentor for the Events. "Come here, the box is opening."

Edison darted over to Byte, excited to see what the box contained. His eye instantly gravitated to what was written on the inside of the box: "Please present this medallion to a child between the ages of twelve and eighteen who best represents this value."

"Ooh, this is exciting! I bet it's for the Events."

"Yeah, probably. Ruby wouldn't have us select a kid between the ages of twelve and eighteen for the Games, after all."

"Right. No rigging for that." The two then looked over at the medallion. "Hm, interesting. Luck as a value."

"I feel like Ruby wouldn't have given that to us after seeing these Games," Byte said, shaking her head.

"They weren't that bad!"

"Yeah, but our tributes definitely didn't luck out at all. And I wouldn't really consider our district to be lucky in general."

Like the nerd he was, Edison pulled out a pocket dictionary. "But luck isn't just about being lucky. It's like fate, randomness, things that happen out of our control."

"Huh. I guess I always associate it with good or bad luck." But it was true that a lot of things that happened in Three happened out of the control of the district's citizens. Whether or not a piece of technology worked, or whether or not people liked it, was totally out of their control. Who was and wasn't sent into the Games had always been out of their control. Even how strict the Peacekeepers were on any given day was out of their control.

"I wonder if we got luck by chance, because it was the last combination left."

"That would be fitting, actually. The luck district gets luck by luck."

Curious, Byte lifted up the medallion to reveal a flash drive. She plugged it into a tablet and quickly scanned the document that popped up. "Well, it looks like you might have gotten lucky this time too - Alexei got approved to mentor."

"Not Sinsya?"

"Nope. But I don't mind mentoring with him. I think he'll do a pretty good job, and that we can work together pretty well."

Edison thought for a moment, then replied, "As long as Ramona isn't mentoring as well, you should be totally fine."

* * *

 _District Five: Trust_

* * *

"All right, team. We have two things to talk about today: how we're picking competitors, and who is going to mentor. Has everyone seen the medallion?"

"I haven't," admitted Watson. He reached out to take a box from Lyla and opened it, revealing a medallion with the engraving of held hands. "Trust?"

"Yep. For the Events, each district has been given a value, and we all have to pick competitors who fit that value. I think trust is pretty good for us, actually."

"Yeah," agreed Alana. "We have to be trusted to provide power to all of Panem." The other Victors nodded in agreement.

"But I think this could be a hard value to find people to fit," Ali said thoughtfully. "Like, how do we know that people are trustworthy?"

"So that's what I wanted to bring up," Lyla said. "I want to see if we can find a system where we can effectively determine people who fit the value of trust."

"We could do lie detector tests," offered Brinna.

"Sure? But I don't feel like it's intelligent to lie detect the entire population of 12-18-year-olds. It would take too much time and the teachers would have a fit."

"We could get a subset of them."

"But how we get that subset fairly is what I want to think about."

Watson raised his hand. "What if we offer the kids in the district the chance to nominate people? Like, trustworthiness is sometimes hard to determine on a large scale. But on a small scale? When it's just kid to kid? That's easy."

"Yeah!" Brinna chimed in. "If we ask each kid in Five to name someone they trust the most, and then we choose some of the kids with lots of nominations."

Lyla thought about rejecting the idea, paused, and then nodded. "It's at least worth a shot. I'm not convinced that it'll yield anything, and I think we want to think about people who do have larger-scale trustworthiness, but at least it's something we can try. Now, in terms of mentors. Last year for the Events, we all mentored. But because Aelyx and Luna can both mentor this year, and because Nissan has some more experience, Ruby is not requiring us to send anyone to help over in Thirteen."

"I think we should send someone over there to help anyway," Ali offered. "Poor Nissan still needs a bit more support; I helped him out during the Games and the poor kid was still really scared by basically everything."

"Would you be interested in going over there to help?"

"Sure."

"Great. So now it's just a question of who mentors here in Five. Alana, you're the one of us who's best at strategy, so I think it would be good for you to mentor." Alana nodded. "The question is, do we think Luna needs someone to mentor with her? Or can it just be her and Alana alone?"

"So here's my thinking," Alana suggested. "The whole thing about these Events is that the two competitors are working as a team. So if we mentor them together, then we can help them trust each other more, and I can support Luna and help her mentor."

"That's a good call," said Watson. "Then also you have one person for strategy, and one person who knows more about the Events than you do."

"Is everyone else OK with that?" Lyla asked. Brinna and Ali gave her the thumbs up. "Fantastic. I'll help out with the process but yield the selection of competitors to you and Luna. I trust you."

* * *

 _District Six: Knowledge_

* * *

Sydnee Leigh was caught between a bit of a rock and a hard place.

On the one hand, she was exhausted. As the only competent District Six mentor by anybody's standards, mostly because Orris was… well, Sydnee had known Orris for a very long time, and it was scary to see someone who you knew so well suddenly become so much less competent than they once were. They didn't know why, either, just that Orris couldn't really mentor anymore. And considering that Gigi was an idiot and that Alex was the worst, the weight of getting a tribute home fell on Sydnee, something that she had not been successful at for now fifteen straight years. Now that Ventus and Nell had both been approved to mentor, Sydnee could actually take a break for the first time in a long time.

On the other hand, Ventus and Nell had never mentored before. While they had both competed in the Events, doing something and helping someone else do that thing were completely different. Having worked with both, Sydnee was skeptical of either of their abilities to help their competitors: Ventus was very quiet, and might not be able to communicate with his competitor effectively, and Nell would just communicate too much. If Six wanted a chance at a Victor, Nell and Ventus might not be the team to do it.

But Sydnee really needed a break.

Looking for advice, Sydnee decided to skim the instructions for the Events again. She opened up the box containing the knowledge medallion, which was engraved with a medallion and some other weird runes. It was definitely fitting that District Six's value was knowledge.

Knowledge.

Of course Ventus and Nell had to mentor! They were the only two people in the district who knew what competing in the Events was like, meaning that competitors who knew how to play the game would be teaching those who were chosen, rather than those who knew how to play the Games. And they each had their own kind of knowledge that would offset the other: Nell just seemed to know everything about what was going on in the district, and how to get information about and out of other people, and Ventus knew a lot about how to be an actual human being, a real-world adult, having been through quite a lot in his life. The knowledge of the two of them combined would definitely be the right thing for their competitors.

And, the best part was that Sydnee could help out a little bit without going to the Capitol. If the competitors were picked and confirmed before the Events by any significant margin, Sydnee could give everyone an idea of the best strategies to take. She's be able to guide the tributes up until just a few days of the Events, and by then Nell and Ventus would probably know how to guide the competitors from there.

Not to mention that the competitors would be hand-picked because they embodied knowledge in some way; for kids in Six, who always competed to be considered the smartest, choosing them would literally be stroking their egos. Something told Sydnee that they might not want to be mentored in the first place.

* * *

 _District Seven: Karma_

* * *

"Well, another Games come and gone," reported Ivey.

"Yeah, and another Games with no success," Reth replied, fiddling with the wooden box on his lap.

"Yeah, well. It's not like the tributes were totally blameless anyway."

If anybody was in support of the new format of the Games, it was District Seven. It wasn't because they encouraged the killing of those who had criminal records, or because they liked the idea of children killing each other in general. It was more because now, the children who died in Seven had a reason for their deaths. In a district like Seven, everything happened for a reason; where and when a tree was planted or cut down, why someone got hurt or sick, got pregnant or married. The Games were the one thing that had once happened without reason, and no matter how hard the citizens of Seven tried, they could never justify their deaths. Now, there was at least some form of reason for their untimely demise, which took a bit of weight off of the mentors. So while Ivey and Reth were a bit dejected coming back from the Capitol having lost two more tributes, they knew that had done all they could with one tribute who volunteered, bringing xyr death on xemself no matter how trained xe was, and one who had been involved in a very dangerous act of deforestation even if she hadn't done anything herself in the process.

"That's fair. But I still always wish that we could do more for them."

"We always do as much as we can. At a certain point, it just comes down to the tributes."

The two fell silent. Reth, being as old and awkward as he was, couldn't quite figure out how to talk to Ivey, especially because she was already such a strong mentor at such a young age. Even after bringing home four Victors, Reth had very little confidence that he could ever help another win, and his confidence dropped next to a strong young girl like Ivey. Maybe that's why he enjoyed mentoring for the Events so much: he was guaranteed to bring both of them home.

"What's in the box on your lap?" she asked, breaking Reth out of his train of thought.

"It's for the Events," explained Reth. He opened the box to show Ivey the medallion it contained, featuring the engraving of a person in the middle with a strange pattern of arrows and dots around it. "I think the value is fitting, don't you?"

"What's it for?"

"It's supposed to represent our district. Like, something we stand for. Our two Events competitors are supposed to represent this value."

Ivey read the writing on the medallion. "What does karma mean?"

"It's like, the idea that things you did affect things that will happen to you."

"Hmm, that's probably kind of hard to determine who fits karma."

"I already have a few ideas for some good people. But what I'm very excited about is that I think Sawyer manifests karma really well."

"Is she mentoring?"

"Yeah, because she competed in the Events last year. I'm not sure how much it'll help because it feels to me like the format has changed, but…"

"But she didn't do so well, right? So maybe her competitor will do better if she has good karma saved up."

"I'm not sure if that's exactly how karma works."

* * *

 _District Nine: Teamwork_

* * *

"So let's talk mentoring. That's basically the big thing we need to worry about right now, because I want the four of us to have a concrete plan going into the Events."

"Do you really think it makes sense for us to all mentor?" Sarah asked Sophie as they worked together to make dinner for their families. "I mean, there are still four of us. I feel like it's not the most logical thing to do to have all four of us there, especially considering that we also have Liana."

"I mean, we are District Nine. Our value, fittingly, is teamwork. And I think it would be nice if all of us worked together on this one. I am the oldest living Victor, considering Durum's incompetence."

"I'm older than you by three minutes; you just count as the oldest Victor because you won four years before I did. And I still say that sending four people, plus the great-niece of the president, to the Capitol, all five of whom are totally fine mentors, is a complete resource drain. I think if we can figure out who is the best bet to be able to work well with Liana, it would make way more sense to just send over two, maybe three of us. No, just two of us makes the most sense. Liana has nothing else to do but mentor the Events; surely Ruby will pardon her from school because of her government status. And she's a government person, so she's incredibly capable."

Sarah was always the smarter and more logical of the twins. "Fine," Sophie gave in. "So who do you think goes with Liana to mentor? It has to be someone with whom Liana can work well. Maybe Irabella? I'd love her to have another year of mentoring someone who's guaranteed to come home."

Sarah put down her spatula. "See, that's the question. Do you think Irabella will be able to work with someone that she mentored?"

"Irabella's really smart. She picks up on everything. I think she'll be cognizant enough to recognize the relationship with Liana and figure out how to teach her to mentor while still working on the same plane."

"But I don't want to put her in a position that she's uncomfortable with, ya know? And we all know that Liana can be pretty headstrong sometimes."

"That's fair. Why don't we just go ask her what she wants? Or ask Liana who she'd want to work with most."

"I don't want to give Liana that option. We technically have leverage over her in this situation as senior mentors, and I'm not playing the game of her feeling like she will definitely get what she wants because we're asking her. This is a choice that we need to make."

"I just hope we make the right one. If the two mentors can't work together for the teamwork district, how can we expect the tributes to?"

* * *

 _District Twelve: Heart_

* * *

Asha Meye was normally a very confident person. But today was the most nervous that she'd been since her Games. She kept pacing back and forth in Damien's living room, anxiously fiddling with the box in her hands. Days and days of planning, lots of secret keeping, and a bit of help from some high-profile siblings had gone into this; everything had to go right. She had to say yes.

"How are you feeling, Asha?" asked Damien.

"I… I don't know. I feel very nervous."

"That's natural. I was very nervous before proposing to Prim. But it will all work out. Have you talked about marriage?"

"Of course. I wouldn't dream of proposing to her before she was ready. But I still don't want to mess it up. Avalon has told me so much how much she's always dreamed about her proposal, and I want to live up to her hopes."

"Put the box down and come here." Asha placed the box on the coffee table and folded into Damien's outstretched arms. "This is what true love is – wanting to do the best that you can for your partner. And I know she'd want the same from you. No matter what, this is going to be the best day of both of your lives. Now I have to go talk to Sharen about the Events, so go grab that box and tell your girl how much you love her."

"Not Alder?"

"He wasn't approved as a mentor. But that's not important. Go focus on Avalon."

Asha took a deep breath, grabbed a box from the table, and made her way to a sweet little clearing in the middle of the forest. This was where the two had walked to on their first date, where Avalon had first told Asha that she loved her, where they had their first kiss, where they broke their first curfew (Asha had gotten away with it, being a Victor.) There, she met up with Brietta Westwood, Avalon's older sister and the one who had, in fact, introduced the two women. The two carefully decorated the dell with paper lanterns, fairy lights, little tiny candles, and pretty bright fall leaves – fall was Avalon's favorite season. Asha laid out a picnic blanket and set a picnic basket, a bucket with ice and champagne, and a bushel of apples, Avalon's favorite fruit, down in the corner, then stood in the center of the blanket, waiting for Avalon to arrive.

After a moment, Avalon emerged from the trees, looking even more beautiful than Asha had ever seen. Tears came to the Victors' eyes; any speech that Asha had prepared beforehand suddenly departed from her mind, and she could barely stop crying enough to ask the question. But she didn't even have to; as soon as Asha was on one knee, Avalon screamed, "Yes!" and embraced her girlfriend – no, her fiancée – in a bone-crushing hug. A wave of relief washed over Asha as the two shared possibly the most passionate kiss they'd ever had.

"Let me put the ring on," Asha said through her tears of joy when they finally broke apart.

"I didn't even look at it." Avalon took the box from Asha. "Asha, it's not a ring, but this medallion is perfect."

Asha looked in the box, at the medallion that it contained, engraved with a bright read heart, then laughed embarrassedly. "Oh, no. Avalon," she admitted sheepishly, "this is supposed to be for an Events competitor. I left your ring at Damien's house."

"It doesn't matter," smiled Avalon, taking an apple from the bushel. "This is just perfect."

"So I did well?"

"Yes, dear. I couldn't have imagined anything better."

* * *

 _District Thirteen: Discipline_

* * *

It was just an average morning for young Nissan. He woke up, got dressed, and then stuck his forearm in the wall to get his schedule for the day, the majority of which was spent either in school or at play – yes, scheduled play. Even now that Thirteen was under the Capitol's control, habits of discipline and scheduling died hard. Usually for a child of Nissan's age, most of their day was spent in school; Nissan didn't like sitting still and tried to use his Victor status to get more scheduled playtime, but to no avail.

Except today was not a normal day. Because instead of 8:30 – Education Center, his schedule read 8:30 – Command.

Nissan had never been called to Command before. Did that mean he was in trouble?

Instantly, Nissan ran over to his mother, tears forming in his young eyes. "Mommy, mommy! I'm gonna get punished!"

"Nissan, what did you do?"

"I got called to Command. They're gonna demote me!"

"Did you do anything to get demoted?" asked Acela.

"I don't know. Maybe I was out of proper uniform one day? But I don't think I did anything serious to get called to Command."

"So maybe they're talking to you about something else. After all, you are a Victor, even if you don't have a high rank yet."

"But why wouldn't they just come here to talk to me?"

"Maybe they have information they can't share with you in public. I wouldn't worry about it. Now, move along or you'll be late to breakfast."

Nissan could barely eat breakfast, he was so anxious. He kept running through his head everything that he could have done; did he mess up while mentoring? Did he do something slightly out of protocol? What could possibly have happened? Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it was time to find out his fate. Nissan made his way over to command and knocked gingerly on the door.

"Come in!" called the general pleasantly. Nissan carefully entered the room, immediately standing at attention and saluting General Sikka. "At ease, Soldier Triska. Come, take a seat. You're not in trouble."

"How'd you know that was what I was thinking?"

"You were simultaneously too straight and shaking too much. I just wanted to talk to you about the upcoming Events and ask you if you wanted to be involved in selecting competitors."

"What do you mean."

General Sikka picked up a wooden box and opened it, showing the inscription on the inside and the medallion it contained, engraved with almost looked like a man riding a horse, to Nissan. "We must pick two children who exemplify discipline to represent us in the Events."

"Discipline is a good value for us."

"I would agree. We have already formed a selection committee of some of our commanders and lower-ranking generals for this purpose, and l was wondering if you would like to be on it."

"Would I be mentoring them?"

"Yes. You and Soldier Aelyx Stark will mentor them together. Henley can't mentor because of her SpOps status."

Nissan nodded. He paused and thought for a sec, then said delicately, "I don't think so. I don't know if I would be of much help, and I don't know if choosing the competitors would give me bias but I really would like to avoid being biased."

"That's very fair, Soldier Triska. That is all I wanted to ask you. You are dismissed."

"Really? That's it? I'm not in trouble at all?"

"Would you like to be?"

"No, sir!" Nissan gave the general another solute, then walked out of Command as fast as he could.

* * *

 **And here are the rest of the Victors! Which of these drabbles was your favorite? Which Events competitors are you excited to see back? Who are you not excited to see back?**

 **A reminder that subs close on the 27th, so a week from Wednesday! If you have a slot you're eyeing, feel free to let me know beforehand so I'll know to expect a sub from you. As I mentioned, I will not be doing a formal tribute list reveal; more details on that will come after next week's prologue. So I'll see you next week for a chapter about which I am particularly excited, and we'll see who the eighth IDIDE1 focus character is!**

 **Until then,**

 **goldie031**


	7. New Faces

It was time for Ruby's check-in with the Events team. With the Events fast approaching, she needed to make sure that everyone was on track to finish their duties so that things could go as close to according to plan as possible. She absolutely needed to stay in the loop with the Events; now that they were technically out of her auspices over in Thirteen, she needed more precise information than when they were in the Capitol so that she knew everything was going right. This was also the first time that Violet wouldn't be running the check-in meeting. That responsibility would fall to the Events Gamemaker from Thirteen, Soorim Callahan, because Thirteen was hosting the Events, they had taken over from Violet as the Head Gamemaker, while Violet had taken on the role of their assistant.

"OK, Soorim, where are we at?"

"Well, as you know, being the Head Gamemaker I've been responsible for a lot of communication with Thirteen. And they are not excited about doing a full pre-Events."

"What do you mean?"

"They just don't see the needs for the frills or spectacle that come with the Events. All they want to do is sponsor the competition in the same Arena as last year."

"Same Arena is totally fine with me, we'll just have to repaint the houses. But I'm not thrilled with the idea of totally eliminating the pre-Events. The interviews are so important for the audience to get to know the competitors, and the training days are good for the competitors to get some practice in before the Events begin."

"But that's the issue," Bellona Terminus pointed out. "If we don't want them to know what's happening before the Events, we can only do so much with training. And because of the participation aspect, and especially this year with the more direct team versus team aspect, the private sessions are completely useless. If Thirteen wants to get rid of training and the private sessions, I'd be all for it."

"Yeah, I agree," said Amper Helix, Five's representative. "I see no reason to have training for the Events, because the point of training for the Events is to learn survival skills or weapons skills, neither of which are useful for the Events. And you can kind of measure how well someone will do based on those skills – obviously if someone has no weapon skills, they'll really struggle to win. But in the Events, there are so many external factors that it's hard to measure anything."

Ruby began to object again, then checked hersef. "OK, so I'm ok with getting rid of training if we need to. But I really don't want to get rid of the interviews or the Opening Ceremonies so there's some sort of structure. Kids need structure."

Millicent quietly spoke up. "What if the Capitol hosts the interviews before the Events actually start, and then Thirteen does some sort of opening ceremony? I'm sure they could figure that out."

Soorim and Ruby looked at each other, then nodded. "That could work," agreed Ruby.

"So I'll see if Thirteen agrees to that."

"And in that case, we'll bring the competitors to the Capitol first, and then hovercraft them over to Thirteen for the Opening Ceremonies, and the Events will start the next day. If Thirteen is OK with that, that works. Now, let's talk about the Events themselves. Where are we at with them?"

"We're mostly done," said Soorim, looking at the rest of the Gamemakers for confirmation. "The structure of the Events, at least, is definitely set, and we're working on setting up an order of the days at this point. Here is a packet with the general structure of the Events." Soorim gave Ruby a folder, the contents of which she read carefully.

"You've told me a bit about this already, right?"

"Yes."

"Good, so I'm not going crazy. I like it overall, but make sure you know how to explain them very briefly to the Competitors the night before the chariot rides. Now, tell me about the individual challenges."

"Yes. So each of us has been spearheading the design of their own district's challenges, so I don't know all the details of each one yet; the final structural stuff is due in about a weeks so we can move on to nitty-grittys."

"One of Euodia's challenges is really cool," Bellona interjected, talking up her friend. "She's been working hard on it, and it's a really epic representation of karma."

"Oh, that sounds exciting! Do you have a writeup of it?"

"I do, actually," smiled the ever-prepared Euodia. She slid a piece of paper across the table to Ruby. "It's complicated, so I needed a write up early to start structural work."

"This looks really really nice! I'm quite excited about it."

"Thank you!"

"We have one other thing to run by you," Soorim jumped in. "Aviel, in addition to his challenges, has been working on something extra for the Events. We think it'll add a really awesome layer to the Events."

Aviel confidently slid a piece of paper and a box over to Ruby. She scanned the document, then peeked into the box. "I am not surprised to see what this says, but I like your thinking. Keep developing it and close the loopholes; we don't want there to be any problems with this."

"I can do that," smirked Aviel, taking the box back.

"This all looks good! I'm going to do one-on-one check ins with all of you about your challenges, just to make sure they're feasible and whatnot. Before that, I want to share the news with you that we're splitting the Games Fairness Council in half. So right now there are two people from each district on the committee, but in a few weeks, we'll split it up so that one of them takes a spot on the Games Fairness Council and one on the Events Fairness Council. I anticipate that you'll be in close contact with them as you finish preparations for the Events. As usual, I'll be overseeing both; Lavender, my niece, will remain the head of the GFC, and the second council for the Events will be headed by my daughter, Cerise."

* * *

Every time the mail arrived, Liana Klepper anxiously awaited a letter from her girlfriend in Two. Since the Events, they had seen each other only twice, during the Harvest Festival and during the Winter Holiday, even though they lived in adjacent districts, simply because of how busy both of them were. And while Liana could probably afford to buy them phones to actually talk in person, there was still something really lovely about getting a handwritten letter, and so both women had chosen to take that course.

Liana was honestly surprised that Ruby had kept her word and had not interfered at all with her relationship with Myranda. As a check, the first few letters exchanged between the two had been sealed with clear tape; not a single seal had been broken. And Ruby had even checked in with Liana at various government functions about the relationship between the two. Now, more than six months after the Events, Liana finally had reason to relax.

Until a purple envelope arrived in the mail.

 _Dear Liana,_

 _We would like to offer you an appointment to a government position. Please report to the Games Headquarters a week from today to discuss your position with me. This meeting should be kept a secret from everyone, including your mother._

 _Thank you,  
President Emerald_

Liana was a little bit – OK, a lot a bit suspicious. But she couldn't quite say no; this was an official government summons, after all. So, one week later, she stood waiting outside of Ruby Emerald's office, preparing for the worst but somehow cautiously hopeful.

"Hello there, Liana," Ruby said, coming out of her office and locking the door. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm good," Liana responded curtly.

"Very good. Follow me."

Confused, Liana followed Ruby to the high-security conference room, where she found Garnet, Elizah, Amethyst, and another woman whom she didn't recognize. On the table was a locked briefcase. Nervously, she took a seat at the table, incredibly intimidated by the important people in the room with her. The door closed ominously behind her, after which Ruby pressed a button, covering all four walls with titanium sheets.

This could not be good.

"First, I want to reassure you that you are in no way in trouble. In fact, we are about to let you in on a massive secret, one which very few people outside of this room know about. This secret, however, is incredibly dangerous if it gets out, as it could be a matter of both national and your personal security. If you consent to being told this secret, we're going to inject a tracker into your arm that will blow up if you tell anybody about it. If you would prefer, however, you can opt out of knowing the secret. We will wipe the memory of your past half an hour or so, and there will be no harm done."

Liana thought for a moment. "Can you tell me the gist of what the secret is about?"

"It has to do with why I was so hesitant about your relationship with Myranda."

Liana's eyebrows rose. She took a deep breath, then stuck out her arm. The president motioned to an Avox standing on the side of the room, who stepped forward and injected the tracker into Liana.

It didn't even strike Liana that her life was now at the hands of someone who had almost screwed, and her girlfriend, her over before.

"OK, Liana. I'm going to begin by showing you a clip from the 126th Hunger Games." She pulled out a device and showed Liana the video of Tziporah Boronsky's death. "Does anything about this look odd to you?"

Liana studied the video carefully. "I mean, I have always wondered why the Gamemakers choose to set up traps when they do. But I never thought too much about it."

"Well, this particular Arena trap was very planned, because Tziporah didn't die. In every Games since the 121st, Sami and Amethyst have worked together to rescue two tributes from the Arena. These tributes have been brought back to a secret facility in the Capitol, rehabilitated, and sent back out into the districts as agents of the Capitol." Ruby paused a moment to let the information sink in. Liana was, after all, in a precarious position between being directly impacted by the Games and not being impacted by the Games at all ; after all, she might never have been adopted if Kylis hadn't died in the Games, but she had also grown up in an era where she was never at risk of entering them if she didn't want to. Liana looked a little surprised, but not incredibly shocked or impacted; when Ruby saw that the initial response had subsided, she continued.

"Up until now, this organization has been headed by Sami." Ruby gestured to the woman that Liana didn't recognize. "But, with Amethyst stepping down from being Head Gamemaker, Sami was the natural choice to take over that role. The problem is that the organization will then be leaderless, and we want you to take Sami's position. You'll have her support from above, and obviously also support from me. But we trust you to maintain secrecy and to lead this organization well."

"But why did you choose me?" Liana asked. "This was clearly not a random decision."

"Well, a few reasons. One is that you're government-adjacent, so it kind of puts you more out of suspicion than if someone of our direct progeny was in charge. The other is that… well, I felt bad for the things I kept from you and felt that you had the right to know the truth. And this was the only way that you could know."

"And I'm guessing I can't really say no to the government position."

"Well, I'll only tell you the reason if you take the position."

"Fine." Ruby pushed a contract from the briefcase; without even reading it over, Liana signed it.

"So. Has your mom ever told you about someone named Kylis Divola?"

"No…"

"Well, your mother was once in love with her. So much so that she volunteered for the Games to stay with her. Dania was picked for Garnet's Selection, but Kylis wasn't, and Kylis then died in the Games."

"Or so my mom thought."

"Precisely. We rescued her from the Arena that year, and then after her rehab period we sent her over to Two. Obviously, we needed to change her name, and she chose the name Dania Lidano. Dania, because it was Dania's name, and Lidano because if you rearrange the letters in Divola, but flip the v upside down, you get Lidano."

Liana started putting the pieces together. "Lidano like Myranda Lidano."

"Yes. Kylis, now Dania, was placed there because of the last name connection, as Myranda's long-lost cousin. How could we know that you two would be picked for the Events?"

"How could we know…"

"Now you understand the magnitude of why I was worried for you two to date. If your mother met Kylis, even with the alterations we did, she would know exactly who it was. It could be disastrous for your family life, and it could risk the exposure of the whole operation."

"But why didn't you just tell her in the beginning?"

"Because we were worried about word getting out. But think about it, Liana; if she had married Kylis and not you, you may never have been adopted."

Liana might not have agreed with Ruby's choices, but she now understood the magnitude of the situation. She appreciated all of the opportunities her mother and father gave her, ones that she may not have had if she'd been adopted by anyone else; if her secret got out, it could ruin the people who had done so much for her, not to mention that it could have side effects on her relationship with Myranda. Because of her curiosity, she had signed away her life and tied herself to the government for a secret that she may have been happier and less stressed not to know.

What had she done?

* * *

 **Well, that's a good way to end the prologues, don't you think? Thoughts on my picks for these important roles? Will Liana be able to keep the secret?**

 **A final reminder that subs close on Thursday! As I mentioned, I'll be sending out PMs to everyone with the status of their tribute, hopefully on Friday. I'll be sending PMs to accepted subs first, but probably not with a district specified for most of them, and then once I have a set list I'll send out rejection PMs. But don't worry too much if you don't get a PM for a while; everyone whose competitor is accepted will have two weeks to accept, so it might take a while.**

 **Hopefully, I'll be back next week with the first intros! I don't have them in any specific order, but I might change my mind.**

 **See you soon!**

 **goldie031**


	8. The Pair from Nine

_BEEP BEEP BEEP_

 _BEEP BEEP BEEP_

Berk Delano groggily rubbed his eyes as his alarm clock shook him out of his slumber. It wasn't that he wasn't a morning person, more that he simply wasn't used to waking up quite so early on Sundays. But today was a very exciting day, because today was the day Berk got to be just like his dad. Well, almost just like his dad. Dad was too old to be delivering papers, but he did do something with delivering packages, so it was pretty close to what his dad did.

With as much energy as he could muster in the wee hours of the morning, Berk got out of bed and got dressed in the uniform that he'd been given. After brushing his teeth and satisfying his mother by vaguely running a comb through his hair, he went downstairs to find his father in a bathrobe waiting for him with a plate of warm chocolate chip pancakes.

"Dad, it's so early! Did you wake up just to make these for me?"

"You need a good, hearty breakfast for your first day out there," smiled Graham, ruffling his son's hair. "My dad did the same thing for me on my first day of my first job, and I wanted to return the favor. Maybe someday, you'll do the same thing for your son."

"I hope so," Berk gushed. He finished his pancakes, gave his dad a kiss – no, a hug. Big kids didn't give their dads kisses. Graham returned the favor with a kiss on the head, and Berk was off to his first day on the job.

When he arrived at the distribution center, he found that he wasn't the only new paper boy; there was a group of kids also milling about in the crisp early morning air. Berk introduced himself to the other kids; most of them said hello and continued talking, but rather than join a conversation, Berk decided to talk to a kid he saw standing on the side, away from the others. "Hey, Camden!"

"Oh, hi there, Berk."

"I didn't know you were also picked for the job!"

Camden shrugged. "Yeah."

Berk attempted to keep up conversation with Camden, but it took some effort because the other boy was not particularly talkative. When the boss came out, indicating that it was time to stop talking and get working, Berk resolved to befriend Camden at school over the course of the week; it seemed as though the shy boy didn't have many friends, and Berk wanted to fix that.

"Hi everyone! We're so excited to welcome you to your first day as paper deliverers! Your job is to deliver papers to all the residents of our sector of South City. You're done when all of your papers are delivered, but any time you spend over an hour will be deducted from your pay as a bike rental fee, so it is to your benefit to work efficiently and to work together. For today, as it is your first day, we won't dock your pay, but take this as an opportunity to experiment and figure out the best method so that you can be ready for your first real test next week. We'll bring the papers out now, and you guys can take your bikes from the rack out front. Make sure to come back at the end to get your paychecks, and have fun!"

As the kids went to get their bikes, a girl named Raina quickly took charge. "All right, guys. We need to come up with a good strategy to deliver these papers. I don't know about you, but I can't afford to lose a single penny off of this."

"I think we should just go for it," suggested another kid, Arden. "The longer we spend waiting, the less we earn. All we need to do is go as fast as we can and I'm sure that we'll be able to get things done."

"But some of us go faster than others, so if we end up needing to get to the far houses last, someone is gonna lose a lot of money because their bike will be out for a while."

"And, either way, that's not a strategy," said a third kid. "That's just throwing spaghetti at a wall and hoping it sticks."

The kids spent some time debating the best strategy, and kind of generally not coming to any consensus. Eventually, Berk spoke up. "I think if we all work together to see who is best or worst on a bike, and then divide up so the faster people take the outskirts, but take fewer papers, and the slower people take the areas in the middle, but take more papers, everyone can be back within the hour and make the full pay."

"That's a very good idea, Berk," Raina said. "It utilizes everyone's strengths in the most effective way possible. Arden, thoughts?"

Arden shrugged. "I still think there's nothing wrong with just going for it, but I won't go against everyone else if you guys want to go with this method."

"But how are we going to divide this up?" asked one of the smaller kids. "Do we have a list of all of the houses in the districts to refer to?"

"We can ask for one later," Arden said. "For now let's just go!"

Eventually, the decision was made to randomly assign each kid every house on a number of streets and avenues in the sector for now, but to meet up later that week to specifically assign everyone a group of houses to deliver papers too. Raina insisted that everyone keep track of how far they got and how many houses they got to so that they could fairly distribute the farther houses to the faster deliverers. They set a time to meet up later that week, then set out on their first delivery day.

As someone who enjoyed running, Berk knew that he was pretty fast on the bike; he finished his route with enough time to get back home and take a break before baseball practice. When he got home, his father was waiting for him with another hot plate of pancakes. "How was work?"

"It was good! I came up with an idea that we're gonna implement as a team so we all get our full pay every week so that we can work to everyone's strengths. And I got my assigned papers for this week done much faster by going to the farthest point first and working my way closer."

"That's very good! I'm very proud of you, Berk. You'll be working like me in no time."

Those were Berk's favorite words to hear in the entire world.

* * *

Liana was… kind of honored, in retrospect, that Ruby had picked her to spearhead the operation to rescue tributes from the Arena. She respected that Ruby had wanted to be open with her and tell her everything, and she appreciated the opportunity she now had to save other kids, just as her mother had saved her, in a way. But the consequences that came with the choice to say yes were pretty intense, and constantly weighed on her mind. Liana knew that Ruby was watching her every move, and one wrong word would literally make her world explode. And there was no situation that made her more nervous than saying the wrong thing in the presence of the Sheafs. It was easy enough to be in regular conversation and avoid talking about the Games; as long as she didn't talk about the Games, she didn't have to talk about her work. But not talking about the Games was much harder in the presence of three of Nine's five living Victors.

Reviewing her predicament in her head, Liana was a bundle of nerves as she approached the door of the Sheaf household. She took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. "Come in!" Liana took a deep breath, then made her way inside.

"Hi everyone! How are you?"

"Doing well! Take a seat," offered Sophie. "We were just talking about the process by which we were going to select competitors."

"Do we need to have a whole thought-out process?"

"We weren't necessarily thinking something big or elaborate," explained Irabella, "but we want to make sure that the kids can work together well. If they both can win, we want them to be able to work together so that they don't shoot themselves in the foot. It would be really bad if the pair representing teamwork couldn't get their act together."

"That's a very good point."

"So do you have any ideas?"

"Hmm." Liana thought for a moment. "I mean, what's to say we can't screen the kids? Like, we can do something in the schools to see how good they are at teamwork in theory, and then we can pick a number of kids from each year and try to find the best working pair among them."

The three Victors looked at each other. "Glad to see we're on the same page here. We were actually thinking of something similar to that," Sophie admitted. "We also wanted to pick two kids who were the same age; that way, there's a better chance of them having already worked together in class or otherwise at some point in the past."

"I like that idea," Liana agreed.

"Very good. Now, do you think there's any reason to pick a challenge fresh out of the Events?" Sarah asked.

"I mean, we have no guarantee that the challenges will be anywhere near similar to those from last year; in fact, I would bet that they'll be totally different. What I can say is that the District Six big puzzle challenge we did is a great indicator of how people work together, because it forces people to make sure that their strengths are being utilized."

"Sounds good to me," said Sophie, looking to her fellow Victors for guidance, who nodded in agreement. "If you can remember the details of the challenge as best as possible, that would be great, and then we just have to work out the dates and the logistics."

* * *

"Are you sure you're OK with working today, Nova? It's such a nice fall day, and I really don't want you giving up all of your free time working. You are still a kid, after all."

"Yes, I'm sure," Nova smiled. "Milo is busy today, and I know Bailey and Cara have to get some work in as well."

"Really? I thought the Porters didn't let their kids work until they turned fourteen."

"Yes, really," lied Nova. "Plus, I know how busy Monday afternoons can be, and especially this close to the Winter Holiday."

Monday afternoons were always very busy at Ward-Yamomoto Warehousing and Logistics. After the weekend, where only a few people were working, it took all hands on deck to make sure that the non-essential packages that had come in over the weekend got sorted and sent out to where they needed to be. People depended on the efficient and timely work of those at Ward-Yamamoto, and Nova knew just how important her work was to keep everything running smoothly. Ever since her brother Logan went back to their pre-redistricting home to attend university, Nova's father had needed to take on a slightly larger role on the manual labor side of things. Fortunately, Logan had moved into university right around the time that Nova and her twin, Natalie, turned ten, so the two of them combined could come in and pick up any slack their father needed. Natalie ended up taking after Ella, who was responsible for troubleshooting and finding kinks in the system. But Nova ended up following right in her father's footsteps in coordinating overall operations. She loved how it was like one big, giant, complex puzzle, something that required all of her brainpower to solve.

"All right, then. I have a little puzzle for you. We need to start loading up some of the trucks and train cars for the Porters to ship out, but we also still have a ton of packages to sort out here and get into storage. How would you divide up the operations teams?"

Nova thought for a second. "I think we should take three or four of our sorting teams and two of our packing teams and move them over to set up the shipping trucks. That way, the Porters don't get held up. But that should still leave enough teams here to finish packing up the warehouses. Let's delegate to Graham, maybe, to lead that operation so you can supervise here still."

"I had a similar thought. Why did you think of only moving six teams out there instead of maybe one team for each district?"

"Because we don't need one team out for each district. It's probably enough to have four, but the sorting teams tend to be able to do more heavy lifting so I figured I'd add another one or two there; that way, each member of each packing team can supervise a couple of the sorting team guys to get the packages into the appropriate trucks or train cars."

"Very good, Nova. You've really got an eye for this. You'll be in charge of this company in no time. Now, go play! Be a kid. I love you, and I'm so proud of you."

"Fine." Nova gave her father a kiss on the cheek, then grabbed her coat and headed outside in the crisp winter air to find her friends. She really didn't like taking time off of work; every second she spent on the job helped her to get that much closer to the level of perfection she always strived for. All Nova wanted to do was be the best friend or sister or student, or whatever everyone else wanted her to be. But she especially wanted to be the perfect daughter. She took after her father in so many ways, and she really wanted nothing more than for him, out of everyone with whom she spent time, to be proud of her. There was always that small nagging piece of her that said that nothing she did would ever be good enough, or that she didn't deserve the success that she attained from all the work she did. But all that little nagging voice in her head made her do was want to work even harder, so she could finally get to the level that her family and friends deserved her to be.

When she got back to the area of her home, Nova decided to seek out her friends. After checking in with her mother at home and grabbing a freshly baked cookie, Nova headed next door to the Porters' house. The Ward-Yamamotos and the Porters had worked very closely with each other back in Six, as they were the premier warehousing and logistics and transportation and shipping companies, respectively; when Nine took over transportation and started handling all of Panem's mail, it only made sense for both families to move, but moving together made it much easier for all of the kids involved. Nova and Natalie knew their way around Cara and Bailey Porter's house almost as well as they knew their way around her own, so Nova felt perfectly comfortable entering their house on her own, running up to Cara's room, and bursting through the door with what was hopefully a Natalie enough amount of energy.

"Nova! There you are!" Natalie exclaimed, giving her twin sister a hug. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too."

"Why do you always have to go to work?"

"Because I like it! It's like a big puzzle for me, and you know how much I like puzzles."

"I know."

"Hey Nova, did you hear?" asked Milo, the only member of the friend group native to Nine, who had become a part of the friend group after the Porters and Ward-Yamamotos moved. It was still a source of debate whether Milo had taken the Six kids under his wings, or whether the kids from Six had taken him into the fold; either way, they were very happy to have each other. "Before the Winter holiday, the mentors are going to be doing something in school to pick out the competitors for the next Events."

"Really? How did you hear that?"

"It was the buzz of the playground after school today. Apparently, Irabella Miller's younger sister heard about the plan from the Victor, and then of course it spread through her grade because nobody in that grade could keep a secret if it was handcuffed to them."

"Wait, that's so exciting! I can't believe I wasn't there to hear about this first-hand."

"You just had to run off to work," Natalie teased Nova, elbowing her playfully in the side.

Nova blushed. "Mondays are really busy for Dad."

* * *

It was a good thing that the mentors for the Events had warned the RA-12 teachers ahead of time about when they would be screening for Events competitors. All throughout the day, groups of seven kids had been called down to the gymnasium or the cafeteria for the screening, often coming from the same year. This had thrown everything in school off; teachers couldn't really teach because they kept losing students, and anyone who wasn't called in was just too excited for their turn, not to mention that the loss of the gym and the cafeteria meant that the students couldn't go elsewhere for lunch or recess. So the teachers tried to get something done with them, but ended up basically giving the kids the day off, keeping them in their homerooms but kind of letting them do whatever they wanted.

"Will the following students please make their way to the gymnasium: Raisa Hughes, Adriana Pinto, Harvey Idlewood, Quincy Porter, Cassava Brown, Barley Wheatstalk the Ninth, and Ariana Chaff. Will the following students please make their way to the cafeteria: Nova Ward-Yamamoto, Berk Delano, Quinn Liliput, Beanie Goldstein, Amaranth Granger, Poppy Brown, and Ayla Stalklin."

Nova gave her twin sister a quick squeeze of the hand before making her way down to the cafeteria. She was a little bit nervous about the screening, mostly because she simply wanted to do well, but she didn't have strong feelings one way or the other about getting picked. After all, she was only twelve; more likely than not, she wouldn't get picked in favor of an older competitor. That wasn't disappointing, or a sign of imperfection; it was just a sign of her age.

When she arrived at the cafeteria, she sized up the other kids, all of whom were in her year at school. It seemed as though they'd been paired together pretty randomly. At least Nova knew Amaranth and Ayla from her classes, though didn't know them very well, and she also vaguely recognized Berk's last name, but she couldn't quite place why.

"Hi kids! My name is Liana Klepper, and I'm one of the mentors for the Events this year. You're here for our screening process, so we can pick the best possible pair of competitors. There will be two rounds of screening. First is today's round, where you'll be participating in a scaled-down version of a District Six challenge from last year's Events. We'll then choose twelve kids from your year across the district for our second round of screening, where we'll think about how well you work in pairs, and then choose the best possible pair of competitors from that group of eighty-four. Is that clear?" The kids nodded. Sophie briefly explained the rules of the challenge to Nova's group, then let them at it with a time limit of twenty minutes.

Berk recognized instantly that his group was a combination of many conflicting alphas. Beanie, Quinn, and Poppy all seemed to want to take control, and couldn't really find a way to get along. Ayla just didn't seem to be with it, and Amaranth was trying to split up the argument among the other three with little success. But he also noticed that Nova was sizing up the situation just as much as he was, trying to figure out what she could from their groupmates. Maybe if they worked together, they could find a way to distribute the challenges effectively so that everyone could help. "So, I'm guessing you don't want to go up in flames," he said to Nova.

"Nope," she replied, a bit stunned that he'd picked up on that just from watching her. "And I guess you don't either."

"Correct. Let's work together and do this ourselves, or at least whip those other kids into shape so that we don't fail miserably. I'm Berk Delano."

"Nova Yamamoto-Ward. Nice to meet you!"

"You as well. I think my dad might work for your dad."

"I knew you looked familiar! Are you Graham's son?"

"Yeah," blushed Berk. "That's my dad!"

Swiftly, Nova and Berk analyzed the situation at hand. Berk was a hair physically stronger, so he decided to rope Quinn and Amaranth into the parts of the challenge that required physical strength. Nova, meanwhile, took the lead on the puzzles, getting Beanie and Poppy to help when she could and Ayla to help when she couldn't get the other two to work together well. Even with all of their work, though, they couldn't finish all of the puzzles in the room, leaving a few unfinished when the timer went off.

"Thank you very much, kids!" Liana said when time was up. "If you have made it into the top twelve in your year, we will notify you as soon as possible."

When Liana returned to her home in Victors' Village that night, she instantly went to go check in with Sophie and compare notes on the different screening rounds they'd completed that day. (Sarah and Irabella were off in North City doing screening tests there; they would meet at a central point in the district to screen any children who didn't attend school in one of the district's cities, hoping that the pamphlets that had been dropped off all across the district got the word out.) The two of them sat down at Sophie's table and spread out all of the papers that they'd used to take notes.

"So what we need to do is choose our top six or so per age, then Sarah and Irabella will choose six per age from North City. Then we can always invite more to the final screening from the non-city group," Sophie explained.

"That sounds good to me."

"Are there any kids in particular that you really want to include?"

"There was one pair of twelve-year-olds that really stuck out to me. It was a group of seven that would have been a hot mess if they hadn't been there; instead, these two kids whipped their group into shape. Even though they didn't finish the challenge, I was really impressed by the two of them and how well they were able to work together."

"Did they know each other beforehand? Obviously, the sign of a good team is if they can work well together without knowing each other beforehand."

"I'm not sure. They introduced themselves to each other, but their parents seem to work together."

"Hmm. That could be a good thing."

"I really think they could be our pair."

"So pull out their sheet and we'll see how it goes once we've sorted through the other RA-12s."

A few days later, Berk got home from school to find an official-looking baby blue envelope waiting for him on the table. "Dad, what's this?"

"I don't know. It came in the mail today. It looks very official. Why don't you open it?"

Berk carefully slid the flap of the envelope open and slid out a letter with some sort of government seal on it. As quickly as he could, he skimmed the letter, his eyes getting wider with every word. "I got invited to the second round of screening!"

"That's so exciting, Berk! I'm so proud of you," his dad gushed, wrapping Berk in a big hug.

"Well, I didn't get it yet," Berk blushed, a big grin still on his face.

"But you're one of, what, twelve kids your age to qualify for the second round. That's very good."

"Yeah."

Four days before the Winter Holiday, Berk arrived at Victors' Village at eight in the morning for the second round of screening. Because he lived in South City, where the Victors also lived, he didn't have to bring stuff with him, but he noticed that just over half the kids had brought some form of overnight bag. There were a lot of kids there, so he was happy to find someone whom he recognized. "Hello again, Nova!"

"Hey, Berk! Boy, I'm happy to find someone that I recognize."

"Me too. This is a little scary."

"But we're only twelve. What are the odds we get picked anyway?"

"That's what I've been telling myself."

"All right, kids!" announced Sophie, standing on the stoop of one of the houses. "Here's how this is gonna work. You guys are going to go wait in one of the empty houses with our friend Riker. We'll call you in in pairs, and you'll complete a task, and then you'll go back to the Victors' Village house. We're definitely going to see all of you at least once today, and we'll make sure to provide food and snacks and stuff if you need; if you want something, just ask Riker! We'll give you more instructions later in the day, so make sure to pay attention for announcements from me or from one of the other Victors. You should all be very proud of making it this far, and we hope you have a fun day!"

Swiftly, the kids were escorted into a free house in the Village, but then kind of left to their own devices, for the most part, except when their names were called by Riker. Around 11:30, Riker called for Nova and Berk together. The two looked at each other, smiled, and made their way out the front door and over to Sarah's house. When they arrived, they were escorted into a large room; the door then was closed and locked behind them.

"Did you hear that?" Nova asked, looking more alarmed than Berk had ever seen her, not that he'd known her for all that long.

"The sound of the door locking? Yeah, but I bet there's a way for us to get out somehow, maybe hidden somewhere in this room."

"OK. You're right. We're fine. It's fine."

Nova was still breathing pretty heavily. Berk stepped over to Nova and grabbed her hands. "Take a deep breath. You're OK. You're safe. We're gonna get out of here." The two stood together for a moment, taking deep breaths in and out. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes. Thank you."

The two of them began to search through the room for basically anything they could find that was a clue. Eventually, they noticed that there were four locked chests in the room and that the door would open with a four-digit code. "So each chest matches one of the digits on the code?" Berk asked.

"Yep. That's it. So now we just have to figure out how to open all the chests."

"But each chest has a different lock. This one is colors, this one is numbers, this one is letters, and this one has a key."

"Yeah, but check out that clear pipe over there. See how it has a key on a cork? I bet that's the key for that one."

"You're right!"

"How about you try to bring the water in that jug over there to the pipe to raise the cork, and I'll work on that cipher on the wall over there?"

"That works for me."

The two of them broke off to work on their individual tasks. Nova was able to figure out the cipher pretty quickly and got the first chest unlocked. "Berk, I got the cipher! Do you mind if I start on another puzzle?" she asked, as she pulled out a puzzle piece from the chest.

"Go for it. We'll be done faster that way, and once I finish, I can help you out."

"Do you want me to do the sliding puzzle, or try to figure out what the last puzzle could be?"

"If you know what one of the puzzles is, it's probably best to start it now so that we can have double brainpower finding the last puzzle."

"Gotcha."

By the time that Berk got the key out and got the box unlocked, Nova had managed to finish the sliding puzzle, which gave her the code for the number lock. Now, it was just finding the puzzle for the color lock. The two of them searched all over the room, but they couldn't seem to find anything else that had anything to do with that color lock. Finally, Berk noticed that the numbers on the sliding puzzle were all in different colors. "Ooh! What if the colors are those numbers in numerical order? So like the number 1 is in green, so the first color is green."

"Great catch, Berk!" Nova exclaimed, giving him a high-five. The two swiftly got the color lock taken care of, pulling out the puzzle piece the chest contained. From there, it was pretty simple: put together the puzzle, figure out which side had the combination, and plug it into the door to unlock it.

"Nice job! We made it out," Berk smiled.

"That we did."

Over the next two days, Berk and Nova were paired up with other kids and did other, similar puzzles. They generally did well, and each managed to get out of the room every time, but neither of them felt that they got along with their other partners the same way they got along with each other. Clearly, though, something was working; at the end of each day, a number of kids were sent home, but Nova and Berk stayed around, even past many of the older kids. Finally, in the evening of the third day, the pair of twelve-year-olds were called into Sophie's house together, where they found all four Victors waiting for them. Only then did they notice that, throughout the entire three-day process, they hadn't actually seen the Victors at all.

"Hi Nova, hi Berk! How are you guys?" Sophie asked.

"Good," they chorused.

"Have you guys had a good few days?" The two nodded. "Very good. As you might have guessed, we've been watching you guys do the puzzles through cameras and analyzing the way you work together and with other people, as our value for the Events is teamwork. We've determined that you two have a remarkable ability to work with other people to bring the best out of them, but we also think that you do this best with each other. So, if you both accept, we'd love you two to represent District Nine in the Second Events."

Nova and Berk looked at each other, both a bit shocked but very excited. "I'm down," asserted Berk as confidently as he could. "Nova?"

Nova took a deep breath. Sure, she was excited, but also kind of nervous; it would mean leaving everything she'd ever known for some sort of unknown adventure. Yet something in her said that if Berk could do it, she could do it too – no, _they_ could do it.

"Yeah! Let's make our district proud."

* * *

 **So here we have our first pair of competitors, Nova Ward-Yamamoto, courtesy of GalacticFd, and Berk Delano, courtesy of HogwartsDreamer113! I'm experimenting with intro formats, so most likely the rest of the intros won't quite match this one, but I thought it fit really well for District Nine! What do you think of this pair? Do you like one more than the other? How do you think they'll fare in the Events?**

 **Some exciting news: this story has a blog courtesy of my good friend and master of Weebly, TheEngineeringGames! As I introduce characters, they'll get added to the competitors section of the blog, so keep checking back there to get a sense of the aesthetics of the characters.**

 **I'm hoping to keep up with weekly updates, so I'll hopefully see you with another pair of competitors next week! See you then!**

 **Goldie031**


	9. The Pair from Seven

**Trigger warning: abuse, transphobia, and alcoholism in Oksana's POV**

* * *

District Seven's Victors sat together with Sawyer underneath a tree in Reth Rubrum's backyard, getting ready to select their competitors for the Second Events; while not all of them could mentor, they could at least all help choose the two competitors that they felt represented karma the best. Each Victor had been asked to come in with the names of two or three options prepared, so that they could compare and then choose the best two options from among them.

"All right, team" Peter said, getting the six people in attendance to focus. "Let's get started. I think we should start by having one of us give a name, and then we can see if anybody else has it. And we'll continue like that while somebody tallies up all of the name options, and then we can go from there. Any objections?" Nobody spoke. "Great. Who wants to go first?"

"I will," Ivey volunteered.

"Did you just bring in the names of the top trainees in the training system?"

"No, I didn't. But I do have the name of one person who is training in the system, and that's Oksana Devlin."

"I also have her," Reth added.

"Me too!" Fir jumped in.

"A Devlin makes a lot of sense," agreed Alvin. "Of the tributes in the Statutes era, only three were reaped under their parents' statutes, and just the Devlins have kids in Reaping age."

"There's no family that needs good karma more than the Devlins, and I think the Events could be just the good karma that they need to turn things around," Peter concluded.

"But why Oksana in particular?" asked Sawyer. "If I remember, there were two other Devlins."

"Well, Oksana is trained, so she might have a hair of a better shot at a fraction of the challenges. Plus, she's got a fight in her that I think will serve her better in the Capitol than her siblings, not to mention that I think she's the Devlin in the best mental state."

* * *

If you asked Oksana Devlin why she trained, she would reply in one word: protection. For one thing, she wanted to protect her family from the Reapings just in case. Though she didn't support the Games by any means, she would volunteer for Marcella or Sebastian in a heartbeat, because she had at least a chance of getting back to her family. But she also needed to be able to protect them from their father. Since that fateful day seven years prior, their father had shown his true colors to the rest of his children, and someone needed to be there to make sure that nobody got hurt.

But today, making sure nobody got hurt meant not training. She'd gone in for a few hours and done some conditioning stuff, but she was too anxious about the situation at home to stay focused. Taking that as a sign, Oksana packed up her stuff as quickly as she could and almost ran back home. It would be just her luck if, while she was away, something bad happened to Sebastian or Marcella; after all, it seemed that, since Avery was Reaped, every single bad thing that could possibly happen, happened to the Devlins, to Oksana in particular. This would be just further proof of that reality.

When she got home, Oksana carefully opened the door, nervous as usual about what she'd find when she came in. For once, though, it was quiet; no yelling, no crying, no nothing. Oksana lingered for a moment in the doorway before entering the house and going right to her twin's room. "Sebastian?" she called out, knocking on his door.

"Come in."

Oksana peeked open the door. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing," Sebastian admitted, beckoning to his twin to come closer to him. "I miss him."

"I do too. Did you visit his grave?"

"No, I've been in here, avoiding Dad all day."

Oksana nodded. "Yeah, I kind of feel like doing the same thing. Do you wanna come out with me while I go make dinner? Maybe we can go visit with Marcella and mom tonight."

"Would Dad get mad if we don't go with him?"

"Dad's gonna be so busy drinking today he's not gonna care what we do. Come on, let's go cook."

Oksana made her way out into the kitchen and began the process of cooking dinner. It had become somewhat of a sad tradition for the Devlins to have chocolate chip pancakes on the anniversary of Avery's death. They used to be Oksana's favorite when Avery used to make them, but now that he was gone she didn't like them quite as much; nobody else made them like he did. Her mother used to make the pancakes every year, but ever since things got worse with her husband, she just… stopped being able to function. So now, just like everything else, the responsibility fell to Oksana. She pulled the biggest frying pan they had out of the cabinet as Sebastian took all of the ingredients for the pancakes.

And then the door opened. Abraham Devlin staggered into the house, holding a large flask in his hand and clearly in an alcoholic stupor.

He was always drunkest on the days when he missed Avery the most. And the drunker he was, the more dangerous he was.

Instantly, Oksana was on alert. Since Avery's death, she had stepped up, taking the brunt of her father's verbal abuse so as to protect her siblings. But today, Abraham didn't go for her.

"Where is Tatiana?"

"Tatiana hasn't been here in years, father. Are you looking for Sebastian?"

"Quiet!" Abraham threw the flask in his hand at Oksana, who just barely ducked in time for it not to hit her in the head. "I only had one son, and he died seven years ago. I'm looking for Tatiana." Abraham stormed through the house, hunting for Sebastian, who had ducked for cover. Oksana followed, just in case, ready to protect Sebastian at all costs.

Abraham burst into Sebastian's room. "Where is my daughter?" he slurred.

"She's behind you," Sebastian meekly responded.

"Wrong. Where is my daughter?"

"Behind you. Oksana is behind you?"

"No. My youngest daughter." Abraham grabbed Sebastian by his shirt collar and pulled him up. "The correct answer is right here in front of me."

"Dad! Stop!"

Abraham turned his head to Oksana. "I did not ask you. I asked Tatiana where my daughter is."

"Tatiana is gone!" Oksana exclaimed. "We tell you all the time – you have no business misgendering Sebastian anymore."

"Oksana, I got this."

"Are you sure?"

"It's time I stood up for myself here. You've done so much for me, I don't want you to get hurt when Dad is like this." Sebastian positioned himself in between his sister and his father. "I am a boy. Just because you lost a son doesn't mean that he is your only son. And if you can't understand that, then you have no right…"

Without warning, Abraham punched Sebastian right in the nose, sending the boy flying to the floor. "How dare you masquerade as a boy on this day, of all days? You are no son of mine, Tatiana Devlin. You barely even deserve to be my daughter."

That was the last straw for Oksana. She could not stand idly by and let her best friend in the whole wide world get hurt at the hands of that asshole, and she'd been preparing through for that moment. She burst out of the room, past her sister who was watching, frozen, ran into the kitchen, grabbed the frying pan, and ran back towards his room

"Oksana!" screamed Marcella, Oksana's older sister, pulling Oksana away and trying to take the frying pan from her hands. "What are you doing?"

"I'm protecting my brother," Oksana replied, "which is more than you have ever done!"

Channeling all of her pent-up anger and frustration, Oksana wrestled out of Marcella's grip and smacked Abraham in the head with the frying pan as hard as she could. Abraham froze, then sunk to the floor, unconscious, dropping Sebastian to the ground as well in the process. At that precise moment, three men in white suits burst into the Devlin household, with Briget, Oksana's mother, following close behind in hysterics. One of the Peacekeepers grabbed Oksana by the arms and handcuffed them behind her back, while another began to wake up Abraham and pulled him onto the bed in Sebastian's room. The third man pulled out a tablet from his pocket and turned to Briget to begin writing the incident report.

"Ma'am, can you please describe to me exactly what happened?"

"Well, I don't know," Briget blubbered. "All I know is that I walked into the room and Oksana had the frying pan and Abraham was unconscious."

The Peacekeeper turned to Oksana. "Is it true that you hit this man and injured him?"

"Well, yes, but you can't pin this all on me! Look at Sebastian's nose." All heads turned to Sebastian, whose nose was bleeding profusely. Tears were pooling in the boy's eyes, and he was breathing very awkwardly. "I promise you my frying pan didn't cause that."

"Did she hit you with the frying pan?"

"No."

"So how did you break your nose?"

Sebastian could barely answer. All he could do was lamely and unconvincingly point toward Abraham.

The Peacekeepers in the room looked at each other. The two holding Oksana and Abraham handcuffed them, then the three stepped outside to discuss what to do next. The rest of the Devlins remained quiet; nobody really knew what to say, even though everyone in the room who had brainpower kind of assumed that something like this was coming. But now that it had, you could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Peacekeepers returned. "We have decided to arrest Oksana Devlin for attempted murder, which is a statutory offense," said the mouthpiece of the crew. "We will be taking Abraham Devlin to the hospital and reevaluating him once he is conscious." As Marcella and Briget watched in horror, the Peacekeepers led Oksana out of the house. She was marched down the street to the Justice Building, where she was locked into a holding cell. "We will come and get you for processing shortly," the Peacekeeper said sternly as he removed the key.

This was just Oksana's luck. She had done the right thing, hadn't she? All she wanted to do was protect her brother and keep her family safe, but now she had managed to do more harm than good: her father was now protected in the hospital, her brother was hurt, she was going to be on a statute, and her mother and sister were too meek to do anything about any of this. What karma must she have had to earn her this fate?

Suddenly, Oksana heard a familiar voice coming from the main hall. "I would like to report Abraham Devlin for numerous counts of child abuse. This notebook details seven years of abuse of me and my siblings, one of whom is currently being held in government custody. She was arrested today on a count of attempted murder, but only attacked our father because he was verbally and physically abusing our brother."

Marcella had been keeping track of everything, for years? How had Oksana never known?

Oksana heard the sound of flipping pages, before the Peacekeeper on duty spoke up. "Where is your father right now?"

"He's in the hospital, recovering because my sister hit him on the head with a frying pan." Oksana could feel her heart beating out of her chest, almost in time with the clicking of the keys on the Peacekeeper's keyboard.

"I'm going to place an order for his immediate arrest. We will be sending Peacekeepers to your home to escort the rest of your family here where you will be questioned to corroborate the reports of this notebook, but I don't think that will be much of a problem."

"And my sister? Can we lift the arrest?"

"Certainly."

Oksana heard the sound of the Peacekeepers' footsteps, followed by the clicking of the lock of the cell door. The Peacekeeper led her back to the desk, where Oksana and Marcella looked each other in the eye.

"I didn't know you were keeping track of everything. Thank you for saving me."

"No, Oksana. Thank you. You were the only one brave enough to stand up to our father, ever."

"Look at how well that ended up though. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be lost to the Games just like Avery."

"Hey, we Devlins have to stick together."

* * *

"Yeah, that's all probably true. So we're all in agreement that the first competitor should be Oksana Devlin?" Peter concluded. Everyone around him nodded. "Great. So I'm going to say that if anybody has either of the other two Devlin siblings on their list, you should remove them. We can't send in a pair of siblings; it just wouldn't be fair. All right, who wants to give the next name?"

"I'll go. What about if we balance someone who has had bad karma with someone who had good karma?" Alvin suggested. "Maybe like, someone who's successfully made strong friendships, or who's done well in school. Or someone in the Klepper dynasty! They've certainly had good karma."

"I don't think sending in another Klepper is a good idea," Reth replied. "We just had one last year, and I'm pretty sure Ruby wouldn't approve of another one."

"I had a similar idea," offered Ivey, "but I was thinking someone along the lines of Lila Spencer. She's the younger half-sister of Nadina from the Selection. She must have had some very good karma to be that young, yet guaranteed safety for her whole life."

"How old is she?" asked Fir.

"Fourteen, so same age as Oksana. But we definitely shouldn't take age, of all things, into account when picking; a good team is more important than an older team."

"But Lila has already been touched by the Capitol in a good way, thanks to Nadina being a Selection girl," Sawyer pointed out. "I think we should instead try to choose somebody who hasn't had that good luck once before."

"And ideally someone who can work well with Oksana," added Fir. "That's probably the most important thing. And I have a strong feeling Lila and Oksana wouldn't get along."

"Well, I have someone on my list who I know all too well," Reth offered, "and she's someone who has definitely at the very least met Oksana before, and hopefully has a decent relationship with her. Not just that, but she understands the karma of life better than anybody else in the district."

* * *

It was just after nightfall that the red phone in Darcy Spades' house rang. Somberly, Darcy, who knew exactly what the phone call meant, got her work clothes on and prepared to head out as her husband answered the phone for her. This was fairly routine for the two of them; after all, people died every day in District Seven, and Darcy was responsible for digging the vast majority of Seven's graves. So by this point in both Darcy's career and her relationship, the ringing of the phone calling Darcy out to work was, while always a sad sound, just as much a part of life as death itself.

"You're needed, of course," Edmund said, placing his hand on the mouthpiece of the phone. "And in the main cemetery, too. Sounds like this one is a bit of a rush job; the family said they lost her mid-day today, and they want her in her final resting place as soon as possible."

"Tell them I'll be there as soon as I can walk over."

"I really wish we'd get to spend a full night at home together one of these days," Edmund lamented, handing Darcy her work boots.

"Me too. But I can't control when people die."

"I know. But I wish that all of the people dying didn't entail you being out of the house until all hours many nights of the week."

"Hopefully I'll be back soon and we can cuddle before you have to go to sleep." Darcy grabbed her shovel and gave Edmund a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too. Be safe."

Darcy slipped out of the house, careful not to let the door slam behind her, and quietly slipped down the street. She was called to the main cemetery a lot, more than any other cemetery in the district; unfortunately, she and her husband lived a decent distance from it on foot, so when she was called, it meant a trek out, a decent amount of work, and then another trek back. At least on this November night it wasn't raining or snowing; she could just enjoy the night air and finish the job fast without having to deal with mud.

Most people would be frustrated to be called out of their houses at nighttime for work, but Darcy secretly enjoyed it. She'd always been a night person – not just someone who was more awake at night than in the morning, but someone who truly thrived off of the crisp nighttime air and the sparkling stars that dotted the sky. It was almost like she was able to work twice or three times as fast at night, even though that probably wasn't the case.

It was hard sometimes to find Seven's cemeteries. After all, it was tradition that every grave in Seven had a tree planted atop it, so as to continue the cycle of life even after death. Most adults got to choose the tree they wanted, but all children received an evergreen tree; it wasn't that they couldn't pick for themselves, rather that the evergreen trees were a symbol of the eternal youth of those buried beneath them. The problem was that the cemeteries sometimes blended in with Seven's forests; rest assured that any lumberjack who accidentally cut down a grave-tree would be ostracized, so they had to be very very careful, often double or triple checking the area around the trees they cut to make sure that they weren't accidentally cutting down the wrong tree. But Darcy, who spent so much time in the cemeteries of Seven, knew all of the shortcuts and best paths so as to get to work as quickly as possible; even in the dimness of the night, she was easily able to find the entrance to the main cemetery.

When she arrived, Darcy made a quick detour to a special section of the cemetery, one dotted with evergreen trees instead of deciduous ones like in the rest of the cemetery: the section in which those who perished in the Hunger Games were buried. It had become tradition in Seven that every person who visited the cemetery for any reason should pay respects to those who gave their lives in their place. Most children who grew up in the Statutes era like Darcy couldn't quite understand their parents' solemnness when they visited the cemetery; after all, they had, for the most part, grown up without ever needing to worry about being Reaped.

But Darcy understood. For some reason, ever since she'd been digging graves, Darcy had dug the grave of every single tribute offered up by Seven, except for the one who had managed to come back. Not only that, but somehow she'd ended up as a therapist of sorts, as the parents and siblings of those who were lost to the Games were drawn to her for help and advice. She saw the way that most parents cared for their children, whether that child committed a crime or volunteered for the glory of the Games. And for three children, she saw the effects of the loss of a child because of a parent's actions; it was probably a miracle that only three such children had been Reaped since the Statutes era began.

After wandering around the tributes' section and paying her respects to those whom she'd buried, Darcy began to seek out the grave she was to dig. She was happy to have found it quickly, just a stone's throw from the edge of the tributes' section. It was a small plot; normally for an adult, Darcy would dig an eight by three plot, but this plot was only five by two. Its placement within the cemetery was either very deliberate, or a sad coincidence.

Now, it was time to begin digging. Darcy liked to begin by doing a small trench outlining the grave, so she knew where she was to dig up to, then began to dig in the middle. As she was digging, though, she felt her shovel hit something in the grave. Alarmed, Darcy pulled her shovel out of the grave and used her hands to clear the dirt around the object, curious as to what it was. As soon as she pulled it out, she immediately recognized it.

It was a skull. A human skull.

Darcy picked up the skull and held it up so she could look it in the eyes. She wondered who the person was who once had that skull. Surely, it wasn't someone famous, or even someone known; there was no way that they'd accidentally mark off a marked grave to dig another grave atop it. From the size of the skull, Darcy had a feeling it was a woman's, and the fact that it was missing a number of teeth reinforced that this was not someone from a wealthy class. Something told Darcy that this woman… person, but probably a woman, had done something that forced her into an unceremonious death. Had she once been hung? No, Darcy was pretty sure that hanging had gone out of practice long enough ago that skulls from people who had been hung would have deteriorated. It was more likely someone who died under Snow's regime, killed by the villainous Peacekeepers of that era, so different from the kinder law enforcement officials of the Emerald era. Maybe it was someone who planted a tree with some sort of tree disease without checking with district officials first. Or it was someone who stole from a fruit tree? Darcy had heard horror stories of people in districts like Eleven doing small things like that and getting whipped near to death.

Or what if the person was a good person? Someone who meant well and hadn't committed any crimes. Maybe they lost their lover to the Games once, some time ago, and then took their own life with a bit of arsenic or nightlock. Of course that person would be buried close to the person for whom they took their life. And if they committed suicide, they'd naturally be in an unmarked grave; someone who took their own life broke the circle of life and karma that Seven was so used to, and so they got no tree planted on the grave, not even a gravestone to name the person who now resided six feet underground.

"Darcy, what are you doing?" said a voice from above her.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Asphodel. I was working on digging this grave, but I found a skull." Darcy held the skull she was looking into up to him. "What do I do?"

Mr. Asphodel took the skull and looked at it. "I thought I checked the plot record before marking this out for you. Did you see roots or a tree stump? Or any sign that the grave was once marked?"

"Well, no."

"So I would just keep digging. It's getting kinda late, and I want you back home soon. We can save the bones and rebury them elsewhere or something like that."

"All right." Darcy picked her shovel back up and continued to dig the grave, eventually forming it into a nice rectangle carved out of the ground. She surveyed her work, then nodded in approval; she often struggled to get the corners nice and sharp with smaller graves, but this one didn't look too bad. After giving the grave one last once-over, Darcy grabbed her shovel again and slipped back out into the night, carefully navigating the streets of Seven until she was back home safe.

When she arrived, the house was dark and quiet. Darcy carefully slipped off her boots at the door, then went right for the bathroom to shower and put on pajamas. Once she was all ready for bed, she slipped under the covers next to the already-sleeping Edmund, not wanting to wake him up.

When she woke, he was already off to school, and the phone was ringing again.

* * *

"I remember when Darcy took the job as the gravedigger how quiet she was, but that also means that she's a good listener. She's somehow morphed into a therapist, of sorts, for the families of those who have died in the Games. So she understands the bad karma that afflicted the Devlin family, but she might just be the one who can get through to Oksana."

"That's kind of a cool take on karma," Peter said, nodding.

"And she totally fits with how the district interprets it," echoed Fir. "How old is she?"

"Seventeen."

"So she could even be a mentor, of sorts, for Oksana; the girl has struggled to get over her brother's death, so maybe talking with Darcy could help her with that."

"Does anyone have any other suggestions for competitors who you think would make a better team than Darcy and Oksana?" Peter asked. "Or any other options you want to propose? No? Fabulous. So we have our pair: Darcy Spades and Oksana Devlin."

* * *

Even though her father was now locked away, it didn't mean that Oksana trained any less. No, she still needed to make sure that, if he escaped or if her statute wasn't removed properly, her family was still protected. She'd even garnered a reputation around the Academy as the girl who hit someone in the head with a frying pain. There was one change that Oksana had noticed since that fateful day: she was always less nervous to come home at the end of the day.

One day, around the Winter Holiday, Oksana arrived home to find a forest green envelope waiting for her. "What's this?" she asked her mother.

"I don't know," Briget said. "It came for you today."

The entire family crowded around Oksana as she eased the flap of the envelope open and slid the letter out of it. She read it as quickly as she could. "It's about the Events. I've been picked as a competitor for District Seven."

"Oksana, that's incredible!" said Marcella. "It's such a good opportunity for you."

"Yeah," Oksana replied softly.

"Of course it is, honey. Why wouldn't it be?"

The girl shrugged. "I don't know. I just… don't get why they picked me, of all people." In fact, Oksana was incredibly suspicious about her being picked. After everything that had happened, all of her bad luck, how did she end up being chosen for something good? It didn't fit with the karma she'd had for her entire life.

Sebastian took the letter out of her hand. "It says you have to respond to the letter to accept the position. Do you want me to get you some paper?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Oksana, you can't not accept. This is the best thing to happen to any Devlin in a very long time."

"But that would mean leaving you all behind. What happens if…"

"If something happens, we'll be fine," Briget assured her daughter. "He's in jail. He can't hurt us. And if he does, you've shown us how to stand up to him. This is that little bit of good karma we've been missing for so long."

Oksana looked at her family, all so hopeful and excited. She was apprehensive, sure; that would be practically an understatement. But for her family's sake, she had to at least try to seem excited about it.

"All right. I'll do it."

* * *

Darcy was exhausted. Since she'd started digging graves, she had never had to dig more than two, maybe three in a day. But that morning, news had gotten out of a logging accident that had killed sixteen people. All hands were suddenly on deck to get sixteen graves dug, find sixteen grave-trees including some evergreens, and help arrange sixteen funerals. Darcy was, of course, responsible for the digging of the graves, but it was really hard to dig that many graves all on her own. She'd only gotten through three or four of them before Mr. Asphodel effectively commanded that she go home to sleep. "You got through enough today, Darcy. I'll try my best to get some more hands to help finish up a few more graves tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Darcy."

Darcy grabbed her shovel and made her way back home, arriving just as her husband got home from school. "Hi, Edmund."

"You're home early!"

"Yeah, it was a long day and Mr. Asphodel let me go early."

"That was nice of him."

"I'm gonna go shower and then we can work on dinner, yeah? Felicia and Cedric are coming over today."

"Sounds good."

Darcy made a beeline inside and took a quick shower. When she got out, her husband presented her with a forest green envelope. "This is for you, Darcy."

"Really?" Darcy opened it up. "Oh! They picked me as a competitor for the Events!"

"That's so exciting!" Edmund and Darcy shared a kiss. "The Events are such a great opportunity."

"They might put me out of a job, at this rate," Darcy snarked.

"Hey, that's not a bad thing."

"I'm glad I get to tell Felicia in person, too." The two of them worked together in the kitchen to whip up dinner and set the table nicely; Darcy even went outside and picked some flowers for the centerpiece. Somehow, they managed to time it perfectly; just as the pasta was done, Felicia and Cedric knocked on the door. "Hi guys!"

"Hello, Darcy, Edmund, good to see you," said Cedric, as stoically as he was used to. "Darcy, how's work?"

"It's going," Darcy grinned. "It seems to have paid off for me, too! I think it's the reason why I was picked as a competitor for the Events."

Cedric's jaw dropped, and Felicia visibly gasped and almost immediately started crying. "I… I can't believe it," Cedric said solemnly.

"D-did you get framed? I can't imagine what you could have done to deserve this fate."

"At least we know like seven months out, so we have time to say goodbye."

Darcy and Edmund looked at each other and grinned. "Guys, I'm not going into the Games," she laughed. "It's the Events. I'm gonna live. I'll just be going away for a few weeks end of January or beginning of February."

A pregnant pause followed as Felicia and Cedric processed their mistake. "Oops," Felicia said sheepishly.

"That's still very exciting!" Cedric rebounded. "It's a great honor to represent our district."

"And we'll be rooting for you every step of the way, you can be sure of that."

* * *

 **And here we have our next pair of competitors, Darcy Spades, courtesy of The88Constellations, and Oksana Devlin from TheEngineeringGames! What do you think of this pair? Will they work together as well as the mentors think they will? Do you like this intro format better or worse than District Nine's? How will this pair compare to Berk and Nova?**

 **I've got a plan in place, at this point, for the next few intros, so I'm really hoping to stick pretty consistently to weekly updates! Make sure to check out the blog after each chapter goes up so you can see the new competitors added: idide2 . weebly . com.**

 **A few advertising things. First, the SYOT Alliance forum is hosting the SYOT awards right now! Go vote in them to show appreciation for your favorite SYOT moments and characters! Voting is open until January 10. Also, I have a Discord server! It's a secure chatroom type thing where we can talk about this story. Message me if you want to join!**

 **Thats all for now. See you next week!**

 **Goldie031**


	10. The Pair from Eight

"This is unreal," Rose Web groaned, looking at the list of names in front of her. "I cannot believe that this is the total number of kids that we have eligible for the Events. There's, like, four of them."

"There's a few more than four of them," cautioned Neelee. "But you're right, it's not like we have the biggest pool of people to work with."

"So does that make it easy or hard to choose?" asked Riley.

"Well, kind of both, I guess. It's easy because it means we have a very small pool, and I fully anticipate that other districts will struggle to choose because they have such a big pool. But it also means that we're going to need to think very carefully to figure out how our pair fit our value of ingenuity."

The three of them spent some time brainstorming. Ingenuity was a hard trait to pin down, they agreed, and they needed to find a way to isolate that trait in their prospective competitors. They batted some ideas around – the marshmallow and spaghetti challenge, maybe, or some sort of MacGyver challenge – but none of them felt right to the mentors. Until suddenly, something clicked for young Riley.

"I have a question. If we're having trouble pinning down how to detect ingenuity, why don't we leave it up to the competitors?"

"What do you mean?"

"All we need to do," Riley suggested, "is ask the competitors how they consider themselves to represent ingenuity. Their guess is as good as ours. The two people who give us the best answers are the two we present to Ruby."

"Huh." Neelee and Rose looked at each other. "That's a very very good idea. It also means that we could put forward competitors who we think are the safest bets, as long as they give us halfway-decent answers. Well done, Riley," Neelee said, patting the child on their head. "I think what we should do is pick two kids first and see what they say, and if we don't like their answers, we can always ask a few other kids. It's just best to make this as small of a deal as possible. Sound good?" The other two nodded. "Great. So now we just need to choose the two people from this list who we think will be the safest bets."

* * *

There was very little that Paisley Burrell loved to do as much as draw. The girl could spend hours just sitting with her drawing pad, a luxury she'd gotten used to having during her family's two years back in Seven. Whenever she got a chance, she would steal away to seek out the few flowers that poked through the concrete cracks of the pavement in Eight so she could draw them; they were her favorite things to draw back in Seven, but she especially loved to draw them now in the industrial jungle that was Eight as a break from all of the grey and black and smog. Although, flipping back through the notebook revealed that the flowers were slowly becoming more and more industrial as Paisley continued her life in Eight.

The problem when she drew was that she often lost track of time. It was only now that the August sun was setting that she realized just how late it was, and just how close to curfew she was cutting it. And she was all the way on the other side of the district.

Paisley needed a way out of this. And fast.

As Paisley headed towards home, she ran right into a wall of white. Paisley was pretty tall for her age, at five foot nine, but most Peacekeepers were way taller.

"Miss Burrell," said Peacekeeper Thrope. "This is not the first time I've seen you so far from home, so close to curfew."

"That is correct."

"I'm quite surprised that you haven't received a curfew strike yet. I doubt you can make it all the way back to your home in time; this is, after all, quite far from your home."

"Well, I am, in fact, a fairly fast runner. And I think I would have made it home in time; after all, I have done so before. But, I was intercepted by a Peacekeeper. And, if I've read the Peacekeeper's Handbook carefully enough, doing something that causes a citizen to break a minor infraction law, such as breaking curfew, would give a Peacekeeper a strike, but not the citizen. And considering your personal sympathies, I doubt you want to get on Head Peacekeeper Thread's bad side with a strike."

"So if you're caught out past curfew now, I also get a strike?" processed Peacekeeper Thrope pensively.

"Correct. But, if you were to escort me home, neither of us would get a strike, as a Peacekeeper escorting a non-rebel citizen home, no matter how far past curfew, is considered an act of protection."

"And how do I know that you are a non-rebel citizen?"

"My mother is the mayor's assistant."

The Peacekeeper thought for a moment. "Fine, I don't want to take the risk." Paisley smirked as Peacekeeper Thrope escorted her back home.

Even though it was past curfew, Paisley knew that she could just walk right through the door of her house and face no consequences. And she was right. But it took Paisley a moment to register why that was the case on this particular occurrence. Sitting in her house was the commander of the rebels in Eight. Paisley was used to being surrounded by rebel ideas; her family was one of a subset of undercover rebels in Eight, those who kept their rebel ideals on the down-low as to infiltrate high government positions. But normally, rebel commanders didn't visit the houses of undercover rebels, for security purposes for all involved.

"Hi Dad," Paisley said. "What's going on?"

"Oh, hi Paisley," her father said. "We're just talking with the commander about some plans for the next few months."

"I actually had some ideas for how we can…"

Jude turned back to the commander of the rebels. "So I think the strategy we took of getting more kids on rebel statutes… actually kind of worked. It made it more likely that a rebel would get reaped from here and from Eleven, so they could ally up and stick it to Ruby."

"Yeah, it's been incredibly successful to create that counter-alliance to the Careers, even though none of the mentors have encouraged it. I think if we can keep getting rebel kids reaped for the Games, and we keep having them ally, I could see us really making a dent in the whole Games system. Maybe if a ton of rebels win, Ruby will just stop them once and for all."

"So we want to make as many kids who are rebels as eligible as possible for the Games."

"Because that also dents into the Events."

"Exactly."

"Dad, I had an idea about the…"

The front door opened, and Paisley's mother, Penelope, bustled into the room. She suddenly stopped, alarmed, and quickly shut and locked the door. "Jude, you didn't tell me the commander was coming!"

"I didn't know either, but he wanted to discuss some things with me."

"Actually," the commander spoke up, "I was equally interested in you and in the information your wife bears."

"Well, it's an honor to welcome you to our home. Can I offer you a cup of tea or something?"

"No, I think I'm OK."

"Hi mom! How was work?"

"Oh, it was nice, Paisley." Paisley's mother took a seat next to the commander. "So I managed to get my hands on that list of Events-eligible competitors you wanted."

"Fabulous! Show it to me," commanded the commander. Paisley's mother procured a piece of paper from her briefcase, and passed it over to the commander. "I'm glad I don't recognize most of the names on this list. As you know, I know the names of every rebel family in the district."

"We know," Paisley muttered to herself.

"And I see only, like, two rebel names that aren't undercover. So that's a very good thing; it means people are listening to me."

"Are we interested in getting our undercover names on the list as well?"

"We'd need to do that more slowly. It would look incredibly suspicious if suddenly so many people went on statutes. We'd need to make it happen slowly, and then we run the risk of those families losing their influence. So I think we could aim to get some people who aren't rebels onto statutes to help us out."

"But there is an advantage to having rebel kids eligible for the Events," Paisley posed boldly.

The commander and her parents turned to look at her, a little bit surprised that she was even there. "What do you mean?"

"With mom's influence, we could rig a kid into the Events. Like, I'd volunteer! We can strongly encourage them to put me into the Events and that way I can infiltrate the…"

As usual, nobody was listening. The three of them turned back to each other, as if Paisley hadn't even started speaking, and kept figuring out whatever plan the commander had come over to discuss. Everything in Paisley wanted to go up to her room, but she knew that, as long as she stayed downstairs, she would be able to gain little bits of information from the goings-on downstairs. And every little bit of extra information would help her, eventually. All she had to do was get into those Events, and then the information she bore could finally be put to good use, one which would certainly get her parents to notice her.

"What if we did find a way to infiltrate the Events?" suggested the commander. "Getting a rebel into a rebel-proof enterprise would certainly be a way to stick it to Ruby."

"That's exactly what I said!" Paisley exclaimed.

"No need to shout, young lady," chastised her mother.

"Hmm. I like that idea, actually," said her father. "We were successful during the Games with getting rebels in, and it had the effect we wanted, so I bet doing the same for the Events will work. But who do we pick? Anybody who is a public rebel is on statutes, so they're ineligible."

"So it would need to be an undercover rebel. If they can do rebellious things without being noticed, it could undermine Ruby's authority just as well."

"But who is good at just… not being noticed?"

"I mean, I could do it," Paisley suggested. "I'm good at being quiet and unassuming but gathering a lot of information. And then I can act quietly without people noticing me."

The three adults began to list out any kid they could think of from the undercover rebels. Even when listing the other five Burrell kids, though, they didn't say Paisley's name. But then, finally, after quite a while, Penelope offered, "Oh! Paisley! She's usually quiet and out of the way, and because her mother works for the mayor, there's no doubt that she'll be accepted."

"Oh, I forgot about Paisley," Jude admitted. "That's a good idea, Penelope. Let's bring her in and ask her. Paisley!"

"I'm right here!"

"Oh, there you are. I didn't notice you there. I have a question for you. Would you be interested in taking on a rebel mission?"

"What kind of mission?" Paisley played dumb.

"We're thinking of rigging you into the Events. You'll be able to get information from the inside and pass it back to us, and maybe you can also mess up the Events in the process. It's a bit of a risky mission if you get found out."

"Hmm." Paisley pretended to think for a minute, to try to make it seem like it wasn't her idea in the first place. "I'll do it. It's risky, but it's what I have to do for my – for our cause."

* * *

"Probably the safest choice would be the child of someone who works in high-up government," suggested Rose.

"Won't Ruby not like that we're picking people who already have opportunities to excel?" asked Riley.

"Maybe. But it isn't like we have many people lower on the totem pole to choose from. I think if we pick one person from a higher-class family and one from a lower-class family, she'll have to be fine with it."

"That's fair." The three turned to their list and began talking through every name on it, trying to identify the jobs of their parents and sorting them between higher class and lower class families, to make sure they got one of each, and also thinking through who was least likely to actually be a rebel. It was a tedious process, but it was what they had to do to make sure that they made good, safe, picks.

Eventually, Rose pointed to a name near the top of the alphabetical list. "How about Paisley Burrell? I'm pretty sure her mom works for the mayor."

"I'm not sure," Riley piped up. "I think I heard my family talk about the Burrell family as like an undercover team."

Neelee shook her head. "Burrell is a pretty common name, and there's no way the mayor would hire someone who's a rebel. I'm pretty sure that, as long as she has a halfway-decent justification for how she fits the value of ingenuity, Paisley is a very safe bet."

"OK," replied Riley nervously. "So is she the higher class or the lower class one?"

"I'd consider her to be the higher class because her parents are technically of a pretty high status," Rose offered. "So let's rule out all the other clearly higher class options. Now, who's a good safe lower class bet? Do you guys recognize any other names on this list?"

Riley skimmed the list. "Oh! I know this name. Jacobus Tailleur. He's the one who made those Vac-Bot things – did you hear about that?"

* * *

Jacobus Tailleur sat at his desk at school, bored as usual. It wasn't that he disliked learning, he just… disliked learning in school. Everything was either too easy or not engaging, and he much preferred to zone out and think about other things. Today, Jack was working on solving a problem for one of the grocery stores near his apartment. That store happened to only employ fairly short employees, and they only had one ladder tall enough to reach many of the shelves in the store. Jack was trying to figure out a way to make it easier to restock those upper shelves. Of course, the store hadn't exactly _asked_ for help with this particular problem. But Jack was sure that this time, he could come up with a solution that would actually work and wouldn't go up in flames like that one time last year when…

"Alert, alert, alert," said a voice over the intercom. "There has been a factory fire in Sector Six. There were two casualties, four people were airlifted to District Twelve for treatment, and sixty-five people were taken to local hospitals. The cause of the fire is still unclear, but reports claim that a spark from the machinery in the factory landed on some scraps of wood that had fallen on the ground and lit them on fire. Those with affected family members will be notified according to standard procedures: first, the families of those who passed and the families of those lifted to Twelve will be notified and immediately dismissed. Then, the families of those who were taken to local hospitals will be notified, and they will be dismissed after lunch. All other Sector Six students will be dismissed once the all-clear is given by the first responders. Anyone who does not live in Sector Six will be dismissed as normal in the afternoon."

Instantly, the tension in the room went up, a few kids becoming visibly nervous and gravitating towards their closest friends. Everyone in his class lived or had families who worked in Sector Six, so more likely than not, everyone in that room either had a family member who was hurt or knew someone whose family member was hurt. All they could do was sit and wait for someone in the administration to come in to break the news.

A few moments later, the vice principal came in. They walked past Jack's desk, giving him a pat on the back before approaching a girl who sat next to him and leading her out of the room. A few moments later, he came back in to pull out another girl, as well as the teacher. Once the door closed, the entire class breathed a big sigh of relief; the only people to be airlifted over to Twelve were people in critical condition, so the rest of their families were, if not unharmed, at the very least not at death's door.

"I can't believe this!" exclaimed one of Jack's classmates. "This is the fourth fire this week and it's only Wednesday."

"And I think all of them were caused for this reason, too – stuff on the floor of the factories catching fire. There has to be a way to prevent these because it's costing the district more money when factories keep burning down."

Suddenly, Jack got an idea, a way to solve the problem of the factory fires. He turned to a new page in his workbook and began to scribble down an idea, drawing diagrams and piecing together his initial idea. He was so busy working that he barely noticed that his class had been dismissed. Carefully, he gathered up his stuff and hurried home.

Later that night, Jack took a seat at his desk and picked up where he left off. He spent some time drawing some more detailed diagrams, and other times fiddling with the machinery he had in his room to try to see if what he thought was possible was actually possible. He wouldn't be able to know for sure until he built a prototype, but Jack was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to do that all on his own. He would need to get one of the factory owners on his side so they could build a prototype and then start actually marketing and selling it. The problem was finding a factory owner to whom Jack could market his product. Jack thought he remembered hearing his friends, Greg and Valerie, say that their father or relative or something owned a factory; maybe he could use that connection to get him into someone's office.

The next day, Jack, Greg, and Valerie met up after school and headed over to one of their favorite secret spots in the district. Greg and Valerie both lived in another sector of the district, pretty far away from where the factory fire happened. But they were both concerned for Jack; as soon as they were alone, Greg asked, "Is everyone OK after what happened?"

"Well…" Jack contemplated how exactly to answer the question. "My dad…"

"Oh! I hope he's all right!" Valerie exclaimed.

"I think he'll be fine."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Well, I had an idea so that we can prevent something like this from happening again. But I need to talk to a factory owner to get a prototype made and so we can price it out and whatnot."

"I bet we can talk to cousin Oli. Doesn't he own a manufacturing plant?"

"Yeah, and I even think he even works with mechanical whatnot. Would that work?"

"That would be great."

Over the next few days, Jack worked with his friends to finish his design, refine his sales pitch, and practice for his big day. Finally, it came time for Jack to present in front of Oli Maccalister, who was one of the biggest technology manufacturers in Eight. Dressed in his nicest clothes, Jack nervously brought his armful of diagrams and drawings with him to Maccalister Manufacturing, LLC. He was escorted directly to the owner's office.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Maccalister."

"Good afternoon, Jacobus. I understand from my niece and nephew that you have quite the product to show me. I'm interested to hear what you have to say."

Jack unrolled his papers on Mr. Maccalister's desk. "Over the past week, no fewer than eight of District Eight's factories have caught on fire. Many of these fires were caused by the same thing: sparks from the machinery falling to the ground and lighting pieces of wood, paper, or other fire hazards on fire. This tragedy struck very close to my home, as my father was injured in one of those fires. He is looking to make a speedy and full recovery in the hospital, but I want to make sure that both of my parents are safe and stay safe. I spent some time thinking of a way to fix this problem, namely how to do a better job of cleaning up the floors, and I think I came up with a good solution.

"These are Vac-Bots," Jack explained enthusiastically, gesturing to the papers in front of them. "Each robot is about the diameter of a frisbee and runs on battery power. They work autonomously to navigate the floor and suck up all of the particles to keep the floor clean. They each have their own charging port, and can even navigate on their own back to their port. You can set parameters for when they're out on the floor and parameters for boundaries for each individual Vac-Bot. They even automatically redirect themselves when they hit a wall or a chair leg or any other obstacle! Most importantly, by making these Vac-Bots out of recycled materials and certain metals, we can make them both cost-effective and affordable. Most importantly, by making a small investment in this method of fireproofing, factory owners can prevent themselves from having to spend what would certainly be a larger sum of money to rebuild their entire factory.

"In order to produce these Vac-Bots, I need a partner, both for financial support and someone who knows how to manufacture stuff. There is no better person to turn to than you, Mr. Maccalister, as you have more experience in manufacturing gadgets and metal products than anybody else in the district. Would you take this step with me towards keeping our factories and workers safe?"

Mr. Maccalister looked at the diagrams that Jack had brought with him. "Did you do all of this yourself?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is very impressive, Jack. I think it's a great idea, but I'm wondering what differentiates these from traditional robotic vacuums."

"A slightly larger vacuum opening," Jack spitballed, "and one that can withstand sharper objects better."

"And you did all of this diagramming and drawing yourself?"

"Correct."

Mr. Maccalister thought for a moment. "I'm very impressed, Jack, with your ingenuity and your problem-solving skills. As we already manufacture a robotic vacuum, I'm not sure if it's totally worth reinventing the wheel, but I certainly don't object to working with you to create a lower-cost alternative that is more suited for an industrial setting. Let me bring in a neutral third party so we can write up a contract."

Mr. Maccalister paged a woman, who came in and drew up a contract between Jack and Mr. Maccalister. In addition to working out the details of how exactly Jack would work for Mr. Maccalister, the services each provided for the other, and the exact way in which Jack would be compensated. Intelligently, Jack made sure to stipulate that he was to keep the original blueprints and designs and that Maccalister Manufacturing could only keep watermarked copies of those designs. Eventually, both sides were satisfied with the contract, and Jack excitedly signed it. He collected his copy of the contract and the blueprints and excitedly made his way home.

"Hello?" called a voice from inside the house.

"Oh, hi, Dad! I didn't expect you to be home this early! How was work?"

* * *

"Jacobus's Vac-Bots were, incidentally, also instrumental in thwarting rebel plans," revealed Riley. "Rebels would occasionally intentionally bring pieces of flammable stuff into the factories and drop them on the floor underneath machinery that they knew would spark, hoping to burn down Capitol-sponsored factories to stem the flow of goods to the Capitol. The Vac-Bots managed to really confuse those plans, saving lots of people lots of money, and also lots of lives."

"So what I'm hearing is that Jacobus had an ingenious solution to a problem, and as a byproduct, he managed to not only avoid rebel interaction but also to thwart them," Neelee processed.

"Correct. And if I'm not mistaken, his parents are both factory workers, so he's definitely someone who's lower class, or at the very least a lower class than Paisley."

"Well, that's a safe bet if I ever heard one. Do either of you oppose to sending Paisley and Jacobus to the Capitol?"

"I'm confident in that," said Rose. "Riley?"

"It's good with me."

"Cool! So our competitors for the Second Events are Paisley Burrell and Jacobus Tailleur."

* * *

Jack sat in Mr. Maccalister's office, reviewing the twelfth Vac-Bot XL prototype of the day. After the success of the Vac-Bots, Jack and Maccalister Manufacturing had expanded the line to mini Vac-Bots first, and now they were working on a third, larger prototype for after-shift cleaning.

"I like this design," Jack smiled, handling the prototype, "but I wish it had a bit of a harder shell on the top for more protection. If something falls, I don't want this thing to get crushed."

"Well, I don't know if there's a way to do that without using plastic, which we want to avoid for environmental reasons."

"What about rubber?"

Mr. Maccalister thought for a moment. "That's certainly an option. Let me explore that and get back to you tomorrow, all right? You should head home – I'm sure you have schoolwork to do."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll see you after school tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Jack."

Jack rolled up the blueprints again and slid them into his backpack, then made his way back home. When he arrived, he checked the mailbox to see if either parent was home yet. As he expected, the mail was still there, meaning that both parents were still at work, as usual. Jack brought the mail into his empty house; ever since Sherri had moved to Six for school, coming home to a lonely house was the norm for Jack. He took a seat at the kitchen table and sorted through the mail, surprised to find that a few letters had come for him. Two of them had to do with his business, but the third was in a nice purple envelope that looked very official. Excitedly, Jack slid his finger under the flap and opened it out, pulling out a letter from D8's mentors and a questionnaire.

The mentors were considering him for the Events. They really were. Who would have guessed?

Jack began to carefully fill out the questionnaire. Most of it felt very self-explanatory, though not something he couldn't slightly embellish for sympathy purposes, until he got to the last question: How do you believe you fit the value of ingenuity? Jack spent some time debating exactly what to write, eventually deciding to write what the mentors probably wanted to hear: that he was a problem solver who had come up with the idea for the Vac-Bots. It was clearly the Vac-Bots that had gotten him on their radar. Giving them exactly what they wanted to hear was probably the best way to secure his spot. After reading over his answer, Jack slid the questionnaire back into the return envelope and walked it over to the Justice Building.

A few days later, Jack arrived home again and checked the mail, finding another purple envelope. His heart raced as he opened it up and as he skimmed the letter it contained. He could barely believe what it said.

They'd picked him. They'd really picked him!

Jack couldn't wait to tell his parents. If he could stay awake that long.

* * *

"I still don't quite understand why you want to do this," scolded Raime, Paisley's older sister and her roommate. "You're literally playing into the Capitol's hands."

"I know," Paisley replied, filling out the questionnaire she'd received from the mentors regarding her candidacy as an Events competitor. "But being that close to the Capitol is a great way to gain information, and to maybe even mess things up."

"Yes, but you would think that you'd at least be a little bit apprehensive about this. If you mess up, you're putting yourself in the direct line of fire, and it could have severe repercussions on all of us as well."

"Those are the risks we have to take for our cause," Paisley said solemnly.

Raime raised an eyebrow. "Alright," she said suspiciously before turning back to whatever she was working on.

Most of the questions were fairly simple to answer: name, age, family situation, grades in school, et cetera. But the last question on the questionnaire was way more difficult: How do you believe you fit the value of ingenuity? Paisley knew that she had to answer carefully; she couldn't say anything that would incriminate her in the face of the Capitol, but she also knew that the commander would be reading over her answers and that they would need to pass his discerning eye. After thinking carefully, Paisley wrote, "I am good at finding clever ways out of sticky situations." Then, she brought the questionnaire and the return envelope downstairs, where the rebel commander was waiting. He skimmed Paisley's answers, then nodded in approval and handed it back to her. In front of the commander, she slid it into the envelope and sealed it, then handed it to the commander to deliver to the mentors.

It wasn't even three days later that Paisley returned home from school to find her father waiting, holding a purple envelope out to Paisley. Eagerly, she grabbed it from the commander and tore it open. "They accepted my application!" she exclaimed, reading the letter as quickly as she could.

"Fantastic," Jude said. "This means you're going to start to come with me to 'physiotherapy' twice a week so that we can keep our cover and not arouse suspicion. The commander will give you all the information you need to know about how to execute your mission properly."

At dinner that night, Paisley tried her best to share her exciting news with the rest of her family. After all, this was her first mission! But, as usual, they ignored her, no matter how many times she interjected and tried to speak. Once the meal was over, Paisley rushed up to her room and closed the door behind her, knowing that Raime was working overtime. Finally, in private, she could really celebrate.

This was her chance. And Paisley wasn't going to mess it up.

* * *

 **So here's our pair from Eight, Paisley Burrell courtesy of later . glader and Jacobus Tailleur from TheAmazingJAJ! What do you think of this pair? Do you like Paisley or Jack better? Will they work together well?**

 **Another quick reminder about the Discord server! Also, something I've been meaning to say for a while but keep forgetting: it will probably be beneficial to have reviewed every chapter of the story, or at least its content, for a reason to be made clear later ;).**

 **That's really it for now. Obviously check out the blog, and I'll see you next week!**


	11. The Pair from Two

Trying to organize any meeting of District Two's Victors was like trying to control a group of squabbling kindergarteners. Everyone had grudges against everyone, so much so that the Victor hosting had to assign seats so that nobody ripped anyone else's throat out. At least Enobaria was dead, meaning nobody could actually rip anyone else's throat out. But this meeting would probably come close.

"All right, everyone take a seat," said Delphine Pix-Lits, who had the unfortunate job of heading District Two's Victors Council. "You all know why we're here: to choose competitors for the Second Events. You all know that Chloe, Arabelle, and Myranda are the approved mentors, but obviously, it's important to me to have all of your input before we submit our final choices to Ruby. As you may know, our district's value is strength. This value has one particular asset: choosing the two competitors and designating them the strongest in the district is a great ego-stroking mechanism.

"I'm going to open up the floor for discussion now. Please, just try to be civil."

Zareth Cullen spoke up first. "I think this is an obvious question. We just need to choose the two strongest trainees in the Academy. We all know that we don't choose our tributes based exclusively on their physical strength, so we should just take the two trainees who can bench press the most and have them enter the Events."

"Absolutely not," exclaimed Mesa Amura, the head of Two's Academy despite her being a sexagenarian. "I refuse to send any of my trainees into the Events. I don't want to lose them as options for the Games."

"So who are we gonna send, then?" asked Hannibal Oriot. "Basically everyone who isn't training is in jail or something, and I think we can all agree that we not only don't want to send a jailbird but that we want to send someone with half a skill-set."

"Exactly," echoed Arabelle. "Even those trainees who are technically out of contention still train out of the delusion that they might get good enough to volunteer or to increase their chances of getting the placement they want in the Peacekeepers or in the military. I don't want to send a competitor into the Events who doesn't have some form of training, but by your logic that you don't want to send a trainee into the Events, that leaves no options."

"So then we're at an impasse," Mesa replied stubbornly. "I'm not budging."

"Mesa, you're being flat-out unreasonable. You can't tell me that we can't even send the last-ranked eighteen-year-old in the Academy into the Events?" argued Hannibal.

"But then they wouldn't represent strength, would they?"

A tense period of arguing followed, no Victor willing to back down from their position on the matter. Finally, a voice piped up from all the way at the foot of the table, sensitive to the extreme discomfort that the pacifist young girl sitting next to her was clearly experiencing. As the only non-Victor in the room, only there because she was, in fact, mentoring, Myranda Lidano might have been the lowest on the totem pole, but she had certainly been gaining the respect of the other Victors as she slowly worked her way up the ranks in the Academy as a trainer, and she knew how to make her voice heard in a room of people who wouldn't always listen to her.

"What about Noel Patterson?"

Every head in the room turned to Myranda, a bit surprised that she'd brought them up. After all, nobody else had mentioned that name in a very long time.

* * *

By far, the most exciting day for Two's trainees was the day of April cuts. Even though only the eighteen-year-olds were affected by April cuts, everyone in the Academy waited anxiously to see the final volunteer choices. Many children felt that their personal reputation rested in the hands of the chosen volunteers, so as soon as those lists went up, every single person in the Academy was drawn like a magnet to those lists. And to be the siblings of the Top Ten? That was a huge ego booster. You were, like, the most popular kid in your year! It was something everybody dreamed of, almost as much as people dreamed of volunteering for the Games themselves; the odds, after all, were just as low.

At one o'clock sharp, the remaining seventy eighteen-year-olds were ushered into the main gym. he April cuts were notoriously devastating, and Mesa had learned from experience that it was better for the trainees to learn their fate from Mesa herself, then leave if they wanted to before the rest of the trainees came in to see the list. Meanwhile, all of the younger trainees gathered in front of the doors, the siblings of the seventy in the front of the pack. Among them was fourteen-year-old Noel Patterson, whose older brother, Jade, was still in the running to be the male volunteer. Noel loved, trusted, and looked up to their brother; he was the first person to whom they came out as genderfluid. How incredible would it be for both of them if Jade was the chosen volunteer?

As the minutes ticked on, the trainees outside the doors got more and more anxious, waiting for the doors to open and for the top twenty to be revealed, standing proudly in a line to receive the adoration of the younger trainees. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Mesa opened the doors to the main gym, revealing nineteen students standing proudly in a line, nine who were competing for the male slot and ten competing for the female slot.

Who was the last one?

Rather than congratulate any of the other trainees, Noel made a beeline for the bulletin board, on which Mesa had pinned a list of the top ten, plus two alternates, for each slot. There, at number eight, was their brother's name! Jade had done it!

So where was he? And why wasn't he basking in the glory of the moment?

Noel could barely enjoy the glory they were basking in and the congratulations of the other trainees; they were too focused on where Jade was. They could hardly wait until the end of the day, when they were dismissed, to run home to confront… no, congratulate their brother. When they arrived, though, Jade was nowhere to be found. Noel was getting frustrated now. It was like Jade was running away from something!

Noel was at least intelligent enough to recognize that cavorting around the district to hunt their brother down was probably not the best strategy; instead, they stormed up to their room and slammed the door, then turned on his television to watch reruns of old Games. Even when they weren't training in the Academy, they were laser-focused on the eventual goal of volunteering, doing whatever they could to increase their odds. They tried their best to stay awake but fell asleep before Jade arrived home.

The next morning, Noel woke up to a knock at his door. "Come in!"

The door opened to reveal a very tired-looking Jade. "Hi there."

"Jade! What…"

"I have to talk to you. Can I come in?"

Noel nodded. Jade came into Noel's room and took a seat on their bed; Noel sat down next to their older brother.

"OK," Jade began. He took a deep breath. "I wanted to share some big news with you. As you may have heard, I made the cut and was designated as one of the ten potential volunteers for the Games this year. However, I'd been thinking about the best course of action to take for my future, and after some long conversations with Mom and Dad and Mesa and some other people, I've decided that that course of action does not involve the Games. Admittedly, the chances of me being selected as a volunteer as the ninth-ranked out of ten are quite slim, but…"

There was very little that was worse for an Academy student than if your sibling dropped out of training. As the age of the drop-out got older, the shame that came with it increased. If your sibling was the designated volunteer and didn't, it was a social death sentence; if your sibling dropped out after April cuts, it was only slightly better. Not only had Jade just given up his shot at the greatest game in the world, but he had just ruined Noel's social life.

"Coward."

"What?"

"Coward! You're ninth! There's no way that you'd be picked. I don't understand why you can't just hold out or a little while longer to just not be a wimp!"

"Noel, I need to do what's best for my girlfriend and child."

"I don't care. You've ruined everything. Get out of my room. Get out of my house!"

"But, Noel, I…"

"Get out!" Noel jumped up, grabbed a pillow, and threw it at Jade. "I don't ever want to see your face, or her face, or the kid's face, ever again."

Sadly, Jade stood up. "I had a feeling you'd feel this way. If you ever change your mind, though…"

"OUT!" screamed Noel, throwing the TV remote at the door. Jade closed it just in time for it to not hit his face.

That was the last Noel saw of their brother for quite some time.

For the next four or so years, Noel trained as hard as they could to shake the shadow of their brother. They were always high in their year, but even with the standard fluctuation in rankings after the first cuts at fourteen, Noel had cemented their spot as a serious contender for the volunteer slot, and they were thrilled about it. Nothing, short of not being picked to volunteer eventually, could bring them down.

Until the Events were announced, and they ruined everything.

After the Events were announced in October of 134, word quickly spread around Two's Academy system that the top five trainees for each slot of each age would be granted immunity for the Events. Suddenly, work ethic across the Academy magically tripled overnight. After all, nobody wanted to be the poor sap who would represent Two in the First Events. (Really, nobody wanted to represent Two in the Events ever – after all, there was no honor in it – but it would be especially bad to be the first one stuck with that distinction.) But nobody was fighting harder than Noel Patterson. They already had a black spot on his social portfolio thanks to Jade, as well as a family name to defend; being picked for the Events would just be the icing on the cake, and they wanted to do everything in their power to ensure that they did not end up with that distinction.

Finally, the day came where the January cuts would effectively, even if not officially, be announced. The tension in the Academy had never been higher, as everyone waited anxiously to see if they would make the grade. Despite the nerves, though, Noel was feeling fairly confident. Though they'd never reached the top spot, they hadn't dipped past tenth ever, and not past fifth since Jade left. Sure, there was a lot riding on this. But Noel had worked hard, harder than anybody else, they were sure; they had risen to the top, and there was no stopping them. Chest high, they pushed their way through the crowds of children surrounding the bulletin board, just to see where in the top five of their year they ranked.

But they weren't in the top five.

They were sixth.

Sixth.

How could they possibly have been sixth? They hadn't been that low in almost three years. And Marko had somehow gotten the number one slot! That douchebag had no actual skills; he was just the third cousin of a Victor, and probably pulled some sort of strings with his family to ensure his safety. There was no way he would ever be allowed to volunteer anyway.

Before Noel truly had time to process the list, it was time for sparring; being in the top ten of his year, just six months before the Games, they practiced hand-to-hand combat every single day, as it was possibly the most important skill to have going into the Arena. When they arrived in the sparring gym, Noel scanned the board to see who their opponent would be that day.

Marko. Of all people, they were sparring against Marko. And they were sparring first.

Both trainees got into their sparring gear, then stepped into the ring. Noel's hazel eyes met Marko's narrowed green ones. "Oh, look who it is," Marko sneered. "It's the poor soul who can't make up his mind; is he a boy? Is she a girl? You can't be neither. If you can't decide, why should you deserve the volunteer slot? After all, it's the top-ranked boy and top-ranked girl."

Noel saw red; Marko had insulted them one too many times, and now he was going to pay. The next thing they knew, they were being pulled off of Marko and handcuffed, then dragged, kicking and screaming, to one of the solitary confinement rooms in the building. Noel paced back and forth across the room until Mesa herself came in.

"Noel Patterson. Today, in your sparring match with trainee Rowlins, you committed the second most serious offense in the Academy: deliberately injuring a fellow trainee during a fight. In light of this action, and in light of your previous warnings, we have no choice but to ban you from the Academy, effective immediately. You have until the end of the day to clean out your locker."

There was no worse thing that could happen to a trainee than getting kicked out of the Academy. It was different than leaving, different than getting cut; it meant that the Victors and trainees no longer trusted you to represent District Two. The names of those who were kicked out were effectively on a blacklist for most of the district.

Noel had never felt more ashamed. Their life was over.

* * *

"Noel Patterson," Delphine murmured, pulling up his file on her tablet. "Weren't they kicked out of the Academy?"

"Yes," Mesa said. "They had a number of warnings against them already, so breaking trainee Rowlins' arm and dislocating his jaw was the last straw. But they had so much potential; if Noel can learn to control their strength, it would make them a force to be reckoned with."

"But what message does it send to the trainees if we reward someone who was kicked out of the Academy with the honor of being a competitor in the Events?"

"Honestly, I don't think it'll send a bad message per se," remarked Deidre Sene. "Like, if you're worried about encouraging trainees to hurt others to become Events competitors? Not gonna happen. Academy culture is already so anti-Events that they'll just see this as another nail in Noel's coffin."

"But they won't be upset about not being the strongest?"

"They're not going into the Events."

"Myranda, how do you feel about mentoring Noel? Their file says that most of their warnings came from lashing out in anger at someone or something."

"I was in Noel's exact shoes, as you all may recall. And I wouldn't have suggested them if I didn't think I could mentor them."

Delphine nodded. "Does anybody strongly object to Noel Patterson being our first competitor?" Nobody responded. "Good. Now, we need a second one."

Instantly, the room erupted into the same argument that they'd had in selecting Noel, Mesa leading the charge to protect, so to speak, the trainees in the Academy, and Hannibal Oriot and Arabelle in particular fighting against what they perceived to be an outrageous demand. Though she preferred to stay as impartial as she could in these situations, Delphine recognized that, while she wanted to let the Victors and Myranda come to a decision by themselves, she probably would need to step in to make sure that they came to some sort of a decision.

"All right, all right, everyone. Calm down. Mesa, you can't tell me that there is not a single person in the Academy who you can't see volunteering or being a Peacekeeper candidate. We have thousands and thousands of kids in our system; there has to be one you can think of."

"I really don't like to rule out even our cut kids because they may have some potential."

"Mesa," Delphine replied sternly. "There has to be one."

Mesa thought for a second. "Fine," she conceded. "There is one person I can think of."

* * *

"Mack Valley!" called his mother, poking her head out of the window of her kitchen. "How many times do I have to tell you not to climb that tree?"

"Mom, it's totally safe! Only one branch has ever broken off!"

"That you've seen. This tree has been alive for longer than your father. One of these days, it's going to fall down and crush you."

"I'll be fine," said Mack, leaping down from the branch he was sitting on and running into the house. "Is breakfast ready?"

"Yes, dear," his mother said, shaking her head as she placed a plate in front of her son. "Now remember, don't eat too fast, or you'll…"

"Done! Is there more?"

"Yes, dear." Davina smiled as she placed another plate in front of Mack, then ruffled her son's hair. "You're gonna run me ragged one of these days."

"Yeah, yeah," Mack replied. He quickly finished the rest of his breakfast, then got his stuff together for the day. "Remember that I have D&D tonight, so I might not be back until late."

"I know. Just be careful, OK?" Mack gave his mother a look. "You might be fourteen, but it's still my job to be worried about you."

"I know."

"I love you. Have a good day!"

Mack gave his mother a kiss on the cheek, then ran out into the hustle and bustle of mornings in District Two.

When he arrived at the Academy, Mack dropped off his stuff in his locker and headed down to the gym, where a number of trainees were milling around before the day started. As usual, he found his friend group milling around by the rope. "Attention, everybody! The rope climbing champion has arrived!"

"Mack!" his girlfriend, Tianna, exclaimed. "I missed you yesterday! How are you feeling?"

"Better than yesterday, that's for sure."

"I'm glad. I don't like it when you miss school. I miss you."

"I missed you too. Now, is anybody going to challenge me on the rope today?"

"I will," said Zea, the one person who could actually rival Mack in climbing thanks to her gymnastics background. "I'm not going to let you hold this title forever. It's time for a woman to be on top. I'm sure Tianna would appreciate it if you weren't on top anymore."

"Hey!" Mack exclaimed. "Put your money where your mouth is. Climb."

"With pleasure." Quickly, Zea shimmied up the rope, primarily using her hands to pull herself up. "Get a load of that! How'd I do?"

"Seventeen seconds."

"Not bad." Zea jumped down from the rope, landing gracefully on her feet and doing a gymnastics style landing. "Your turn, numbskull."

"With pleasure." Mack leaped onto the rope and climbed to the top in half the time that it took Zea. "What do you think of that, slowpoke?"

"Eh. Your rope was just shorter."

Mack shimmied down from the rope and stood directly in front of Zea. "I'd say get a load of that, but with your hands, I wouldn't trust you to carry anything."

Before Zea could challenge Mack to something else so that she could have a chance of beating him, the bell rang, indicating that the trainees had five minutes to get to their first period or face physical punishment later in the day. Mack and his friends spread out, all running in different directions to make sure they weren't late.

One of the best parts of Fridays was that they were the only day of the week that the trainees got to have any choice in their curriculum, during their elective period; with choices like fine art, engineering, architecture, and sports science, the trainees used that period to explore other career options in the likely event that they were not chosen as a volunteer. While some trainees chose an elective when they were young and stuck with it, Mack had bounced back and forth between a number of classes, trying to fuel all of his different interests. This time around, he was taking a class on how to use a 3-D printer. The class was working on a precision project; the goal was to effectively make a model of a steel structure in minuscule scale, to practice how to make structures that were both sturdy and made out of very thin pieces of plastic. Mack had printed the project overnight, so today, all he had to do was get it off of the machine safely and onto his presentation shelf.

When he got to the classroom, Mack realized that he was going to have a problem: the print had ended up much taller than he had anticipated, and was now just a few centimeters away from the print head. Somehow, he had to get the print off of the base of the printer and out of the box without breaking the print or the print head. That couldn't be so bad, was it?

By the end of the period, Mack had managed to both break the print head and destroy his entire print. Both aggravated and embarrassed, Mack sheepishly asked his teacher if he could try again overnight after scaling down his project a little bit. His teacher nodded, even volunteering to help Mack resize the project; it turned out that Mack had only created the fourth-greatest disaster that the professor could remember.

That was mildly comforting.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of normality, Mack excitedly waiting for the end of the day so that he could get to D&D. Finally, after a grueling day of strength training and swordsmanship, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Excitedly, Mack gathered his belongings and headed over to his best friend Malcolm's house to continue the campaign they'd started a few weeks earlier. Mack pulled out his dice and character sheets, all ready to pick up where they'd left off the week before.

Mack and his friends were making their way through a campaign based loosely on the Arena of the 54th Games. And by loosely, they meant they turned all of the mutts into literal dragons because why not? Mack's character, a half-elf fighter creatively named Vack Malley, had miraculously not sustained any injuries from the dragons; in a rather typical Mack fashion, Vack had instead managed to break both his own ankle and one of his spears after rolling a one on an acrobatics check. Luckily, one of the members of their party, Xander, was serving as their party's healer; Vack's foot was now bandaged up at least and could bear some weight, but as Xander was a paladin, he couldn't do anything more.

"All right. Which way do you want to go?"

"We'll go south?" suggested Tianna. Everyone nodded along with her.

"OK. You make your way down south, before running into…" he rolled a D4. "A hundred duck-sized dragons. What do you do?"

"I roll an animal handling check," said Xander, rolling a D20. "Two."

"Thirteen dragons breathe fire at you as they try to pet you, singing your skin. You can see their teeth, which look incredibly sharp and like they could do a lot of damage."

"I attack!" exclaimed Mack.

"Roll an athletics check, but subtract two for the ankle injury."

Mack rolled his lucky D20. "I rolled an eight, so minus two, that's a six."

"Your ankle is bothering you and you have no choice but to throw your spear at the dragon horde. It successfully impales one. The other ninety-nine swarm the spear, rendering it unreachable."

"If that's a six, I'm glad I didn't roll a one," remarked Mack. "I attack again!"

"You have no more spears."

"I attack again!"

"With what weapon?"

"My bare hands!"

Malcolm sighed. "Fine. Roll."

Mack rolled his die. "Natural twenty!"

"No way."

"Yep," Zea said, looking over Mack's shoulder. "It's a natural twenty. More natural than anything else Mack's ever done."

"Fine. You make your way towards the dragons, stomping your good foot menacingly. The dragons fly away. They even leave your spear behind for you to collect."

"Aha! All fear Mack, the Dragon Vanquisher!"

"Yeah, yeah. With the dragons 'vanquished,' a Capitolite sponsors the party some food, some water, and a number of daggers. Where would you like to go next?"

"Tianna?" Mack yielded.

"Let's go north."

As the night progressed, Mack got progressively more… well, some would call it daring and boisterous, some would call it loud and obnoxious, doing crazier and crazier things that sometimes worked spectacularly and sometimes failed spectacularly. By the end of the night, the party had managed to make their way through another solid chunk of the Arena, not without Vack Malley losing all of his hair and three or four fingers depending on how you counted, and had found an unusual, glowing, red stone, a clue that maybe there was more going on than this just being an Arena replica. Mack wanted to just smash it open for clues, but he was vetoed on the basis of Zea's insight and perception checks which said that the stone might bring about the end of the world someday if it fell into the wrong hand. But before they could make any concrete decisions of what they should do with the stone, Malcolm's mom came downstairs and insisted that it was time for bed. The friends said farewell and all headed back home, Mack making sure to give Tianna a goodnight high-five on his way out.

They had only ever held hands once. It wasn't like he was gonna give her a kiss good night.

Even though the next day was Saturday, Mack still had to get up early; after all, Reaping Age trainees in District Two didn't get days off except for Reaping Day, weekends for the duration of the Games, the day of the Victory Tour, and the day of the Winter Holiday. But Mack knew as soon as he woke up that he wasn't going to make it to training that day. He shuffled downstairs, still in his pajamas, and slid into his seat at the table.

"Good morning, Mommy."

"Oh, Mack. What's wrong?"

"Migraine."

"Oh, baby. This is your third one this fortnight."

"And it's not even summer."

* * *

"Mack Valley has so much potential as a trainee that I really don't want to give him up, but I don't think I could see myself sending someone with migraines like that into the Arena," Mesa relented. "And I have a feeling General Sikka would say the same thing when he evaluates Mack in a few years. I don't love it, but I… I guess I'm willing to give him up."

"But if you're only willing to give him up because of a medical condition, how can we defend our choosing him?" Hannibal pointed out.

For the first time, Crash Hatch spoke up. "I've had the opportunity to watch Mack when he trains, and there have been times where he gets migraines in the middle of a training session. The strength that he demonstrates to push through the day when he's clearly not feeling well, and the fact that he is near, if not at, the top of his class in a number of areas despite missing one to two days of training a week, are clear signs of both his emotional and physical strength."

"Plus," Arabelle mentioned, "it might not be a bad thing to present a competitor who isn't the traditional District Two brand."

"Chloe, have you met Mack before?"

"No," the young girl replied. "But I don't see why I couldn't mentor him, especially if I got to chat with him and get to know him beforehand. Plus, Myranda can help me!" Chloe looked up at Myranda with the adoring eyes that made Myranda just melt inside. "She can do anything."

"All right. Does anybody oppose to choosing Mack as our second competitor?" Nobody made any sound. "Fantastic. I'll submit the files of Noel Patterson and Mack Valley to President Emerald for review; as soon as we get approval from her, we'll set up initial meetings with Myranda, Chloe, Arabelle, and our pair. Good work, everyone."

As the Victors filed out of the room, Delphine sighed in relief. Council meetings were way too stressful for her own good.

* * *

Mack and his friends sat at their lunch table, loudly chattering as usual and playing the age-old game, How Many Grapes in a Row Can I Catch in my Mouth? The record holder was Malcolm, with a whopping score of 9, but Mack was determined to beat his friend's record. He went to the fruit station and grabbed a bunch of grapes, then returned to his table and got ready to try his luck.

"The trick, you see, is to throw the grapes much higher, so that you can get your mouth in prime position to catch it. Watch." Mack took one of the grapes in hand and launched it fairly high in the air. Unfortunately, he put a little bit too much force behind it; instead of landing in his mouth, it landed in the glass of a trainee three tables over.

At precisely that moment, Hannibal Lector approached Mack's table. "Mr. Valley. Delphine would like to see you in her office."

Instantly, the atmosphere in the room changed, as Mack cleared his tray and followed Hannibal up to Delphine's office, the eyes of every single other person sitting in the cafeteria following him as he went. After all, people didn't just get called into Delphine's office for no reason, and its big red door served as a constant reminder of the power of the woman who sat behind it. Mack stood facing it for a solid minute before knocking on the door. "Come in," beckoned Delphine, her strong, resonant voice sending shivers down Mack's spine.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Pix-Lits," Mack said as he stepped through the doorway. "How has your day been?"

"Very good, Mack. Please, take a seat." Nervously, Mack sat in one of the plush chairs in Delphine's office, noticing that she was not the only important person in that room; rather, Myranda Lidano, Chloe Antoni, and Arabelle Pick were also there. Those were a lot of Victors and… well, Mack didn't really know what Myranda's title was, but he knew she was important, which only made him more nervous.

"I've called you in today, Mack, to let you know about some changes we'll be making to your training regimen, as you will be representing District Two in the Second Events this January."

"Really? Like, really really?"

"Yes, really really," Delphine smiled. "You're going to be working pretty much one on one with Myranda and Chloe when they're not working with the little girls in our Early Training program, and with Arabelle when they are, to hone the skills that we've traditionally neglected to give you a better shot. Here is a folder with your new training schedule; we want you to try your best to be here every day because we're gonna try to shove lots of stuff into the next few weeks. Your new schedule starts this afternoon with Chloe, where you'll be working on your logic and puzzle skills. We hope you're excited! You're dismissed."

Mack could barely contain his excitement as he bounded out of Delphine's office, running through the hallways to tell his friends the big news. This was the most exciting day of Mack's life!

* * *

It was like Noel had lost all will to do anything after being kicked out of the Academy. Sure, he could train on his own, but volunteering when you weren't the designated volunteer was potentially the worst thing you could do as a teenager in District Two. Everybody, including the escort, knew exactly who the designated volunteers were. An improper volunteer would be blocked at the stairs by the Peacekeepers and arrested on the spot, and whether they were jailed or not, there was no way they'd ever find any redemption among their friends, the Victors, or really anybody else. It was a dishonor for the entire district.

Noel couldn't take another black spot of dishonor on his already spotted persona in the district. So, he'd spent almost a year basically moping around, harboring intense anger at the Victors who dared rank him sixth, and who then dared kick him out.

And then Noel got a red envelope in the mail. That was not out of place; after all, any official correspondence from the Academy came in red envelopes. But Noel did not expect to get a red envelope almost a year after his official expulsion letter came. Slightly apprehensive but slightly curious, Noel opened the envelope and slid out the letter it contained. As he read it, he couldn't believe what he was reading.

He'd been picked as a competitor for the Events.

This was an outrage! How could the Victors have the audacity to not only kick him out of the Academy, but also give him a position that would make him the laughing stock, someone that his peers would only look down on! It was adding insult to… well, to insult. But there was nothing he could do about it; the letter specifically said that he had been chosen and that it was a non-negotiable position.

Noel aggressively tore the letter in half, then stormed up to his room, slamming the door shut and throwing a pillow against it. This was not supposed to be the plan! He was going to bring District Two honor and glory in the Games, not some inferior competition for people who didn't understand the glory of the Games. And yet, here he was, forced into the Events.

He was going to have to compete in them. But he sure as hell wasn't going to like it.

* * *

 **So here is our D2 pair, Mack Valley, courtesy of BulletproofReed, and Noel Patterson, from 66samvr! What do you think about them? Do you like one more than the other? How about how they'll work together?**

 **Another quick reminder about the blog (idide2. weebly . com) and the Discord server (PM me for the link). I'll see you hopefully next week with another chapter!**

 **goldie031**


	12. The Pair from Six

After training ended for the day, the kids who lived in the dormitories of Two's Academy gathered together in the main gym to receive their instructions for their afternoon work time. The Dormies, as they were referred to, were generally orphans or from lower-class families who lived in the slums of Two, for whom winning the Games mean not just honor, but also a chance to help their loved ones out of a dire situation. In exchange for their training, room, and board, Dormies were required to assist with the running of the Academy system, whether that meant cleaning up after training, doing laundry or sewing together new uniforms, helping to grade papers, or organizing files in the trainers' offices. Many Dormies used their extra exposure to the Academy's facilities to their advantage, doing whatever they could to better their odds to volunteer; win or lose, nobody fought harder than a Dormie.

Unlike most of the other Dormies, afternoon assembly was Sigmund Roost's favorite part of the day. After all, it was one of the few times that he got to see his older sister, Penelope. The six-year age gap between them meant that they were on totally different schedules during the day, so they usually tried to do the same task in the afternoon so they could spend some time together. Usually, it worked, because Penelope and Sigmund would ask to do tasks that most of the other Dormies tried to avoid, preferring to do anything that might possibly help them get a leg up on their non-Dormie peers. After all, neither Penelope nor Sigmund were exactly aiming to enter the Games; they were only in the Academy because it was better to be a Dormie than to live on the streets.

Today, Penelope and Sigmund had been assigned to help organize Delphine's filing cabinet. This was a job to which they were frequently assigned; as they weren't aiming to volunteer, nobody was concerned that they would steal information about their fellow trainees to have a shot at improving their own chances. They sat across from each other at her desk, Carissa Lovarre also in the room to supervise, pulling files out of her draws, organizing them, and then putting them back. As they worked, they talked about their days; Sigmund was particularly excited to tell Penelope what he'd learned in his classes that day. But Penelope was being more reserved than normal; Sigmund had a feeling that there was something big that she had to tell him.

"You two seem like you have this under control," said Carissa, seemingly sensing what Sigmund was sensing, "and I trust you. I have some other stuff to take care of, but I'll be back in about twenty minutes to see where you're at. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," echoed Penelope, giving Carissa a knowing and thankful look.

"All right. I'm going to lock you in in the meantime so that nobody sees that I'm leaving and gets any bright ideas. There is an emergency system in this office; you can find the instructions in Delphine's files. See you soon!" Carissa slipped through the door, locking it securely behind her.

Penelope let out a deep breath. "OK, Sigmund. I have something to tell you, but I needed to wait until we were alone, without Victors or cameras. You know how I haven't been feeling so well lately?"

"Yeah."

"Well, last night I took a pregnancy test, and… well… it was positive. You're going to be an uncle!"

"Really? That's so exciting!"

Penelope grimaced. "Yes, it is exciting. But you know that pregnant women aren't allowed to train in the Academy once it becomes known that they're expecting. I think I have another month or so until I start to show, so we have some time to figure it out."

"Do you know who the father is?"

"Well, the only person it could be is my boyfriend. But I have to tell him and his family and I just… I'm scared."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Penelope."

"But what if he isn't excited, or if his family isn't accepting?"

"Then that's what happens. Better them find out from you than find out by you getting kicked out of the Academy."

"That's true." Penelope paused for a moment. "If I have this kid here, they're probably gonna end up in the Academy, aren't they?"

"Probably. Especially because your boyfriend's family seems to be pretty intense when it comes to training."

Penelope groaned. "I don't want that for this kid, though. They deserve more than to grow up thinking that the only way to be successful in life is by killing other kids. But how can we get out?"

"Look, if your boyfriend's family is supportive, they'll help you find a way out. But you have to tell them first."

"But where would we go?"

"Maybe we can go to Six! That way this kiddo can have access to education." _And so can I_ , added Sigmund in his head. "That's the real way to get a better shot in life in President Emerald's Panem."

"Huh." Penelope thought for a minute. "That's a good idea, Sigmund! But how would we get permission to travel?"

"I don't see that being a problem. If one of us could get into a university or early university program we can get a green card for the whole family. Or we can get a visa from the president if you or your boyfriend is eighteen."

Penelope nodded. "That seems doable. Let me talk to him and see what we can work out."

For the most part, Sigmund was left out of the conversations Penelope had over the next few weeks and months with her boyfriend and his family. (This wasn't something about which Sigmund was upset; Penelope's business was Penelope's business, and he didn't feel a need to know exactly what was going on until it affected him directly.) Rather, he relied on his alone time with Penelope to hear the details that would eventually affect his own future. Finally, after months and months of discussion between Penelope, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's family, the plans were made and the visas were obtained for Penelope and her family to move to Six; Penelope and her boyfriend would get jobs as teachers' assistants to make sure Sigmund and, eventually, their kids could attend school. Sigmund began to excitedly count down the days until the move. He'd never been to a real school before – the few classes that he took in and around training didn't count – and was excited to finally get to indulge his intellectual curiosity in the central place in the country for academia and higher education.

Finally, it was time for them to pack up their few belongings and get on the train to Six. Sigmund carefully and eagerly followed his sister, who was holding baby Riley, through what seemed like an endless stream of train stations and train cars, of people of every size and every color of the rainbow. While Two was the favorite district of many Capitolites, they much preferred to visit prettier places like Four and Seven, so Sigmund was caught quite off guard by the avalanche of color that assaulted him at every train station, especially as they transferred trains in Nine's Central Station. Sigmund also enjoyed watching the landscape of Nine pass by. The district had clearly not lost its agricultural origins; cities and towns were separated by large swaths of what still appeared to be grain fields, with dirt roads connecting them for the most part. Eventually, the amber waves of grain-type-stuff gave way to the green grass and pretty trees of District Six. Sigmund could tell that the air pollution caused by the factories that must have once been there hadn't quite cleared yet; the district would certainly someday be beautiful, but it needed a bit more time to get there.

After what seemed like an eternity of a travel day, as it often was traveling with two teenage parents and a new baby, the Roosts arrived in Six; Penelope's boyfriend would be joining them later, after tying up a few loose ends in Two. The pre-teen boy trotted after his sister along the cobblestone paths of six until they finally arrived at their new apartment. Sigmund was so exhausted from traveling that he fell asleep on the couch, not even waking up when Riley cried for most of the night. Before he knew it, Penelope was waking him up so that he could get ready for his first day of school. She helped him get dressed, then sent him off on his way with a goodbye kiss.

As Sigmund made his way to school, he found himself getting more and more nervous. This was the first time in his life, really, that he'd need to make new friends; he'd never had very strong friends back home in Two, but there was still the comfort of knowing that they'd grown up together. Now, Sigmund would be totally starting over, which was an incredibly intimidating concept. By the time he'd reached the imposing brick building, other students streaming in around him and talking to their friends, Sigmund was practically shaking from nerves. How would he make friends? Would he be smart enough? Would the other kids look down on him because he was from Two? How was he going to fit in?

Just as Sigmund was about to run away from school back to the apartment, praying that he wouldn't get lost along the way, another boy came over to him. "Hi!" said the boy. "Is this your first day?"

"Yes. We just moved yesterday."

"Well, welcome to District Six! I'm Daryl, what's your name?"

"Sigmund."

"Nice to meet you, Sigmund. Do you have your class schedule yet?"

"I don't think so."

"I can help with that! Come on, let's go to the office and get you all registered and situated."

As Sigmund walked with Daryl through the halls of his new school, he felt a huge sense of peace and relief.

He was going to fit in here.

Everything was going to be all right.

* * *

Almost as soon as Ella Shapiro woke up, she felt a whirlwind of emotions rush through her body, as she processed exactly what day it was. At just… well, now twelve, she'd never had such a strong conflict between something that should be joyful and exciting and something that was sad, frustrating, and downright terrifying, both of which were on the same day. That wasn't to say that any other option was necessarily better. If her mom's court date had been before Ella's birthday, the thought that this birthday could easily be her last or the sadness she might feel at her mom's absence would hang over her for the whole day, and if the court date were after her mom's birthday, Ella would certainly be spending the whole day fretting about the possibilities. Of course, the absolute ideal situation would be for her mother to not be a drunkard and an idiot and assault a Peacekeeper. But that didn't happen. So here Ella was, on her twelfth birthday, preparing to go to court to be placed on a statute. Not to mention that she'd have to miss school, probably the worst part of the whole thing.

What a wonderful birthday present.

Less than excitedly, Ella got out of bed and made her way downstairs, where her uncle, sister, and cousin were waiting for her. "Happy birthday!" they exclaimed, catching Ella a little bit off-guard.

"Thanks, guys," she smiled sheepishly, taking in the scene in front of her. Uncle Oren had made a steaming hot plate of Official Shapiro Birthday Pancakes, and behind it was a big box wrapped in pretty teal wrapping paper. Ella took a seat in front of the pancakes, and after taking a second to think about the day and year ahead, she used her fork to cut a small piece of the pancake stack and took a careful bite. "Thank you, Uncle Oren."

"You're welcome, dear." Oren took a seat next to his niece. "Twelve years old, huh? I can't believe you're already that big."

"Yeah…" Ella put down her fork. "I'm not so hungry."

"Are you nervous about today?"

Ella nodded. "It's just not fair! Mom messed up, so why am I getting punished for it?"

"That's the way it is," Oren replied, fully understanding that his answer wouldn't pacify the girl. "I think it was an attempt by the President to decrease rates of serious crime overall; parents tend to be more careful with their own actions when those actions can directly affect their children and put them in danger."

"But has that worked historically?"

Oren thought for a moment. "Well, nobody has tried it before us, to my knowledge."

"And I trust your knowledge of history more than anyone."

"Thank you, dear. Now, before we go, I want you to open your present."

"But we don't open presents until after dinner."

"Well, if you want to wait that long, you may, but I think this is one that will be of use for you today."

A bit confused, Ella reached over her pancakes and grabbed the teal-wrapped box. Tentatively, she ripped the paper off of the box, then carefully slid her hand under the tape and pushed the lid of the box open. "Is this…"

"Yep. I got it specially printed for you."

Ella reached into the box and pulled out her prosthetic arm. "How did you do this?"

"I know a guy in the 3D printing department at school. He helped me out."

Ella placed the arm down and threw her other hand around Oren in a hug. "It's incredible. Thank you."

"Now, no matter what happens today, we're all coming back here tonight," Oren assured the girl. "And someone is coming to teach you how to use that arm."

That didn't mean that Ella wasn't going to mad at her mother if things went as badly as she anticipated. But there was something refreshing about Oren's reminder that life would move on, no matter what happened. And she was at least able to finish up her plate of pancakes before it was time to go to court. Ella and her half-sister, Bar, dressed up in their nicest dresses, and Bar even took the time to braid Ella's hair, which the rambunctious seven-year-old rarely did. Finally, both girls were ready to go. They said goodbye to their cousin Elijah, who did have school that day, and followed Oren to the courthouse.

When they arrived at the courthouse, they were led into the courtroom where the trial would take place. Oren took a seat in the pews behind the defense and prosecutions' tables, but Ella and Bar were led to a special little box across from the jury box. "When we do statutes trials," the court official explained, "we want the people to whom we are giving the statutes to be able to see those who would be affected if a statute is assigned, as a reminder of the consequences of their actions. I remember one trial where there must have been nine or ten kids all stuffed into this box. It was brutal."

Though Ella had fully processed what was going to happen if her mother was sentenced as she expected, this was the moment where it really sunk in. If her mother was convicted, she and Bar would be placed on a statute, and she'd be eligible for a Statute as early as this year.

She could be dead in six months.

Ella could barely look at her mother as she was led into the courtroom, ironically flanked on either side by a pair of Peacekeepers, dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit and hands cuffed together at her front. Yael was not a particularly tall woman, but she looked even smaller here; for the first time, she seemed almost ashamed of her actions.

It was about time.

After her mother was led in, the three judges presiding over a case entered the courtroom from their quarters as everyone stood up out of respect for her. Panemians, especially in the outer districts, had high respect for judges in Ruby's Panem. Each judge was carefully trained by a committee so that they were well-versed in law codes so that legal decisions were consistent across the country. Judges also were never assigned to legislate in their own district; instead, they would be assigned on a monthly basis to a district that wasn't their own, and they were always assigned to legislate in diverse trios, sometimes larger groups depending on how significant, serious, or high-profile the case was, as an attempt to mitigate potential biases. This was also why Ruby had elected not to enact a jury system; a jury member might know or know of the people in the case, and that might cause bias. All in all, while Ella knew that the judge's decision might not be favorable for her or her family, it would at least be a fair decision, a small comfort for the girl.

"You may be seated. I am Judge Peldridge, the senior judge presiding on the sentencing in the case of State v. Shapiro. Presiding with me are my junior colleagues, Judge Collins and Judge Lopez. Will the counsels please approach the bench?" The two councils approached and quickly conversed with the judges. Then, they returned to their respective benches. "As you know, the defendant has already submitted a guilty plea. We will move directly into the sentencing phase.

"We believe, Mrs. Shapiro, that you are, at heart, a good person, though you have traveled down the wrong path. However, your drunken assault cannot be left unpunished. Normally, an assault of that caliber would carry only a prison term; however, as it was an assault on a Peacekeeper, we must also place you on a statute.

"We have decided to sentence you to an eighteen-month prison term and to place your children on an eighteen-month statute. To all intents and purposes, this should be a longer sentence, but doing so would mean that your children would not have a legally recognized guardian, and temporary guardianship can only be granted for a period of eighteen months if a parent has not given away rights to guardianship or passed away. To be clear: we are only placing you on this statute because of your children; we expect that you will turn your life around, for your sake and for theirs, once you leave prison. Court is now adjourned."

Instantly, a pair of Peacekeepers approached Ella and Bar, and led the two to a small room on the side of the courtroom; Ella did her best to comfort the young girl, who looked quite distressed. A moment later, a man entered the room. "Hello, ladies. My name is Martin, and I will be processing your statute today, and I will also represent you in the event that you need to challenge any form of ruling on your statute. How old are you two?"

"I'm twelve," Ella answered. "Twelve today."

"Happy birthday, dear!" replied Martin, in a much peppier voice than the occasion dictated. "And you?"

"I'm seven," Bar replied quietly.

"A very good age. So that means that only you, Ella, are and will be under the full statute. I'm going to go over very quickly what it means to be on a secondhand statute. For the most part, you have no restrictions on your actions, unlike those who are under full statutes; there is no travel ban, except during summer break, when the Reaping happens, and for the duration of the Events, and you can still attend regular school. The one restriction we will impose is a little bit different for each of you. Bar, you will be required to wear this purple bracelet, and Ella, you will be required to wear this government-issued jacket, or some other purple top of the same shade, on every day except for Fridays." He handed Ella a purple blazer, of sorts, with the official seal of Panem on the back. Ella recognized the jacket as one that a small number of other kids at school had to wear, though she'd never registered that they were wearing it because they were on statutes; she couldn't imagine the shame that they felt having to literally bear their parents' sins on the back.

Soon enough, she wouldn't need to imagine it.

"In a moment, an official will come in to process Ella for the Reapings in the summer; both of you will be required to attend, even though Bar is not old enough. Hang tight for a moment."

As Martin left, two Peacekeepers led Yael into the room. Bar, who, to Ella's chagrin, was much like their mother in temperament, threw her arms around her mother and began to cry. "I don't want you to not be around, mommy!"

"Bar, it's going to be OK. You have Ella, Uncle Oren, and Elijah, and they'll all take very good care of you."

"But what if Ella goes into the Games? She'll die!"

"She might die." Yael paused for a moment. "She might die." She looked at her daughter, who was carefully putting on the jacket. "Ella, honey. I'm so sorry. Once this is all over and done with, I… I'll make this right."

"Yes. You'd better."

* * *

As she did the previous year, Sydnee Leigh met Ventus and Nell at the coffee shop in Six near Victors' Village. She found that having a casual way to get to know people was a lot better than having a formal meeting. Not to mention that she really liked coffee.

When she arrived at the coffee shop, she was pleased to find that both Nell and Ventus were already there. "Hi guys! How are you?"

"Good!" replied Nell excitedly. "You?"

"Doing well, thanks. And you, Ventus?" Ventus gave a deep nod. "Good. Let's go ahead and order." Sydnee followed the two of them down the line and paid for their orders, then the three found a small table in the corner where they could talk in relative privacy. Sydnee started, as usual, with a bit of small talk, checking in with the pair on their academic and personal lives. Nothing much had changed with Nell; she was still just as buoyant and energetic as the year before and gushed excitedly that she'd be writing a column for the paper come the summer. Ventus, on the other hand, was finally beginning to feel comfortable in the district; he'd decided to take another year in high school to figure out whether he wanted to go to university or not, which was actually a fairly normal path for children who lived in Six and had the luxury of having constant access to the highest of higher education.

After they'd chatted for a while, Sydnee swerved conversation over to the actually important topic at hand: how to choose a competitor for the Events. "So, our value is knowledge," Sydnee said, "as I'm sure you've heard. I wanted to think about how we should choose our competitors because I think knowledge is a value that we can interpret in many different ways. I'm kind of curious if you two have any ideas."

Nell thought for a moment. "I think some sort of test is absolutely fair," she decided. "Yes, there are different kinds of knowledge, but I think we want people who are at least some degree of book smart."

"But by imposing that baseline, do we lose people who are really street smart, or have some sort of unique knowledge of how the world works?" Ventus replied.

"Look, we're District Six. If you remember from last year's Six challenge, the Capitol sees us as a district that knows lots of stuff. I don't want to risk being embarrassed on our own challenge."

"So what you're saying is we only need one person who knows a lot, and the other person can know a bit less than that."

"Unless they're split up for that challenge."

"Well, I was actually thinking about doing some sort of test too," Sydnee said. "I think there's definitely merit to having some sort of baseline of knowledge or intelligence, but there's definitely a way to make a test that tests lots of things at once."

"But how do you test street smarts?" Ventus asked. Nell nodded in agreement.

"I mean, how do you test street smarts except in a real situation? We don't necessarily have the means – well, more accurately, the time to test every Events-eligible kids in Six. We're gonna have to do what we can do in the format of the test. But that doesn't mean we can't ask people what they would do in a given situation and use that to assess their street smarts. It's at least a method of some sort."

"But wouldn't that be unfair to kids who don't test well?" Ventus added.

"There's only so much we can do."

Ventus paused for a second. "Fine. I'll concede on the test aspect. But I don't think that we should pick the two competitors who get the highest scores."

"What do you mean?" asked Sydnee.

"I mean, I think that we should add questions like, how do you think you fit knowledge or other atypical questions. And someone who doesn't score as well on their general knowledge section but does really well on a common sense section shouldn't be totally taken out of consideration because they don't do great overall."

"I agree with that," Nell said. "Scoring highest on the test and scoring best aren't the same thing, and I think we should take two people who score well over two people who score high. But, I also think that we should set a baseline score for each section below which that kid should be immediately out of contention. And maybe we can even make that a different score for people of different ages."

Sydnee nodded. "So we're in agreement when it comes to a test, and I like how you guys are thinking about how to measure intelligence and knowledge and that kind of thing. I'll go speak to all the various authority figures and make sure we can basically take one day to do that across the entire district. And if we do it digitally, we can even rule out some people day of. That'll make our lives a lot easier in the end. Sound good? Awesome. I'll start the process of making this happen."

* * *

It was about two weeks before the Winter Holiday that those students eligible for the Events were notified by email regarding the test. Instantly, things became incredibly tense at school, as kids began to study even harder at school to try to up their chances of being picked, although Six had the smallest population of children of any district, so their odds were already the best as compared to children in other districts. But they didn't care about that, because they all wanted to have the status symbol of being in the Second Events; kids who lived in Six wanted it because they hated how kids who came to study in Six decreased their odds of being picked, and kids who were studying at one of Six's boarding schools wanted it because they wanted to prove that they were really smart enough to be in Six. Teachers in Six would later say that they'd never seen more kids studying more intently than in the little bit of time leading up to the test. And they'd never seen everyone arrive on time at school before; with ten minutes to go before the test started, every student sitting for the test was already in their seat, shaking with nerves and anticipation.

Ella was trying to figure out exactly how she felt about this test. As someone who was ineligible for the First Events, because she was on a statute, she was certainly grateful for the opportunity to sit for the test and to be eligible for the Events. She was only now starting to fully comprehend that the Events were really a viable alternative to the Games. Perhaps, if she entered them, it would put her in the position to enact that change; this was the only guaranteed opportunity she had to get herself into the Events, as who knew if her mother would mess up again, or if the other four drawings would be by luck again. In the end, Ella decided not to go crazy studying, but to at least put some effort into it, so as to maybe up her chances.

Sigmund was certainly intrigued by the Events, but he admittedly didn't have that much riding on it. Sure, the increased financial stability would be nice. But Sigmund had his sister and brother in law, a nephew and a niece, a loving home, and access to education, the latter two of which he certainly didn't have in Two. For now, he was perfectly content with what he had; sure, he studied a little bit, but he didn't make himself crazy or pull an all-nighter or anything, because why go crazy going for something he didn't need?

On the day of the test, all of the eligible children in Six were led into the gymnasium and placed alphabetically into columns, so the first child alphabetically was in the top left, behind whom was the second child alphabetically, and the last child in the bottom right of the grid of seats, with the second-to-last child alphabetically in front of them. Once everyone was seated, walls rose between them, so that there was no potential for cheating on the test.

The moment of truth had come.

After each section of the test, a chunk of children was dismissed, deemed ineligible for the Events because they hadn't met their personal baseline score. Sigmund and Ella were both kind of surprised that they made it to the end of the test, and were now forced to wait until the day before the Winter Holiday to learn the final results. Now, just the agonizing wait until December 24 lay between the children left in contention and their fates.

* * *

After school, Sigmund waved goodbye to his friend Daryl and made his way back home. Normally, he would prefer to spend some time with his friends, but he was on tap to babysit the kids that night so his sister and her husband could have a date night, not to mention that he really wanted to see if he had a letter waiting for him. They got a decent number of letters, actually, mostly from their relatives in Two, but they were rarely addressed to Sigmund; the few times he had gotten letters were usually birthday cards or whatnot, but that was about it. So to be waiting for a letter that had actual content in it was very exciting.

When he got home, Sigmund decided to exercise self-control; if the content of the letter was exciting, he might not be able to do his homework, and education was incredibly important to Sigmund. So, he unpacked his backpack and finished his math and science work, then half of a novel. Once he was satisfied with how much work he'd completed, Sigmund organized his books on his desk, then pulled out the envelope and carefully and neatly opened it, so that the envelope could be used again. As he read the letter, his eyebrows went up in surprise. Somehow, he'd done well enough to be picked! He couldn't quite believe it; how had he, a fourteen-year-old, done better than so many older people?

Sigmund went out into the living room, where Penelope was unloading the kids from the car and getting them out of their winter clothes. The boy was instantly drawn to his niece and nephew; he loved spending time with the kiddos, especially now that Riley was old enough to play with. "Hey, buddy! How was your day?"

"I got a truck!" exclaimed Riley excitedly, holding his new toy truck up to Sigmund.

"That's really cool!" Sigmund turned to Penelope. "Guess what I got today."

"What?"

Sigmund held the letter out to Penelope. "A spot in the Events."

Penelope took the letter and read it carefully. "Sigmund, that's incredible! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thank you!" The siblings embraced. "You might need to find another babysitter after January 25."

"I think we can manage."

* * *

Ella returned home on the day of December 24 with a spring in her step. The Winter Holiday was always an exciting time; it was a festival of light, nature, and family, all of which were very nice things. But she was most excited to see if anything was waiting for her in the mailbox. She wasn't sure if she would get something if she wasn't the choice, but if she didn't, at least it meant she would know.

As she arrived home, Ella reached in the mailbox to see if there was anything waiting for her. Sure enough, there was a pristine white envelope inside! Suddenly, she felt her heart beat a little bit faster; this was the news she was waiting for! Ella ran into the room, dropped her backpack on the floor, then eagerly opened up the envelope and slid the piece of paper out. She read the letter. Then she read it again. And then she read it a third time.

She could barely believe her eyes.

They'd picked her.

Ecstatic, Ella zipped up her coat and ran through the cold to her uncle's office at the university. She burst through the door of the building and ran through the halls, coming quickly to Oren's office and banging on the door. Oren opened the door, fully expecting to see some sort of emergency situation; when he saw a very excited Ella standing there, he was a mix of relieved and agitated. "Ella, what's up?" he asked. "I have a lot of work to do."

"Look!" Ella eagerly held out the piece of paper to her uncle. "They picked me!"

Oren took the letter from his niece and read it carefully. "Ella, that's incredible! I'm so proud of you!" He gave the girl a big hug. "Now, I have to go get some work done, but we can celebrate when I get home, all right? I'll see you later."

Ella practically skipped back home, she was so excited. When she got home, she paused at the door to think about her next steps.

She'd have to tell her mother eventually. But did her mother deserve to know the good news?

* * *

 **Here we have our next pair of kiddos, Sigmund Roost from 66samvr and Ella Shapiro from GenevieveLeigh! I know the timing of the chapter might be a bit confusing in terms of what happens when, so feel free to ask if you have any questions. Anyway, what do you think of them? Do you like one better than the other? How will they work together?**

 **I'm sorry that this chapter is a day late – this past week was insane with a bunch of extracurricular commitments. I'm hoping to keep up with weekly updates for another month or so at which point I'm less sure, but we'll have to see what happens.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you next week!**

 **Goldie031**


	13. The Pair From Twelve

"So I'm thinking that we should go with more orange-toned dresses or bow ties on your side, maybe like a burnt orange, and a maroonish-reddish color on my side, yeah?"

"Sure," Asha replied.

"Unless we want to go for brighter tones – I'm not sure how exactly I want to play off of our names yet but I don't think a burnt orange will go with an apple red, you know, cause Avalon means island of apples, and I also don't think bright orange would work because it could get too cartoonish. So maybe we could shift over to pastels…"

Asha stopped her fiancée's blabbering with a kiss. "Whatever you want, baby. I trust you. I have to go now to do stuff for the Events, so just let me know what colors you want and I'll tell my bridesmaids and bridesmen. I love you."

"I love you too."

Asha grabbed her jacket and headed over to Damien's house, where the Victors were meeting to discuss the selection process for Events competitors. Even now, after the redistricting, the extra income that the Events would provide would prove immensely helpful for nearly ever family in Twelve, so it was of the utmost importance that the selection process was as fair as possible. At the same time, however, the Victors in Twelve really wanted to put together a pair that would both get along and exceptionally represent this value, but if they chose competitors, it might be seen as favoritism to those families whose children were chosen. Finding the way to ensure that all sides were satisfied would likely be a challenge, the Victors assumed, and the only way to do that was what would likely end up being a very long meeting.

"Hello?" Asha called out as she opened the door to Damien's house.

"We're in the dining room," Damien called back. Asha made her way over to the table, around which Damien, Lilac, Delilah, and Sharen Cantiano were sitting. "How's wedding planning going?"

"Let's not talk about it. Did I miss much?"

"We've just been going back and forth on how to pick competitors," Lilac explained. "I think the general consensus is that we want to have some say in who we pick, but we need to make sure that we have a clear way to justify who we're choosing that's not just our opinions."

"Yeah, that was where we ended the last meeting, right?"

"Yeah."

"Have we asked how other districts are doing it?"

"Well, Two is handpicking, but that's how it works in Two for the Games as well," Damien said thoughtfully. "And I know that Six is doing some sort of test structure. Five is doing something interesting. They're having people nominate those they trust the most and choosing based off of those nominations."

"Nominations is an interesting idea," Asha mused. "Then if someone doesn't get nominated, it doesn't fall on us why that person doesn't get picked. And then we're just looking at strength of application, and for someone who isn't picked, we can say their application isn't strong enough."

"I still think we might get some backlash if we have any selection power," admitted Delilah.

"Screw it!" Sharen exclaimed, startling everyone. "There's only so careful we can be and we don't have that much more time to make the decision. If people get mad, they get mad, but we're making the best decision we can for Twelve, and that's the whole point."

"That's a very good point, Sharen," mused Damien. "Yeah, I think a nomination process is our best bet. We can reconvene in a few weeks' time and review them, and then submit nominations to Ruby just before the Winter Holiday. Would anyone be interested in helping me with the process of preparing a nomination form and soliciting nominations?"

"I'd be more than happy to," Asha volunteered.

* * *

 _Mina Valadian, nominated by Janari Lovarre and Tyran Hovello_

* * *

Most trainees in Two would spend their free time after lunch, between academics and athletics, to talk or spend time with their friends. But Mina Valadian was not most trainees.

Sure, she liked spending time with other people, but Mina much preferred to dive into the world of romance novels. There was nothing that Mina loved more than love, and every book she read gave her a new idea for how she could find her soulmate. Maybe he would meet her in a park, or by a beach, somewhere pretty and sunny and bright. Or maybe it would be somewhere hidden, in plain sight, where she would least expect it.

"Why am I not surprised to see you reading?"

Mina looked up to see her best friend, Romil Orsher, standing above her. "What can I say? I like to read."

"Yes, but most trainees who can read don't read romance novels. They prefer things that are gory and whatnot, or books about weapons skills or workout regimens. Not books that will make them softer." Romil gave Mina a playful shove.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Mina exclaimed. She stuffed the romance novel deep into her bag and pulled out a way larger book. "I have to give this back to Carissa."

"What is it?"

"One of Janari's old medical textbooks. Carissa's been letting me borrow them."

"Again, not what a normal trainee would be reading."

"Deal with it." Mina stepped around Romil and made her way to Carissa's office. That boy could sure be annoying sometimes, but wasn't everyone? Mina wouldn't trade their friendship for the world.

Arriving at Carissa's office, Mina carefully pushed the already-ajar door a little bit; when she heard no sound of protest, she opened it all the way and entered the room. "I finished the book, Carissa," Mina said sheepishly, holding the textbook on sutures out to the Victor.

"Why am I not surprised?" Carissa took the book from Mina. "I'm running out of Janari's old textbooks, you know."

"I know. But they're so interesting, I just can't put them down! Do you have another one that I can read?"

"Let me see if I can find any more, or maybe I can write to her in Twelve and ask her to send some to me or to tell me where they are. For now, though, it's time to start training for the day. I'm in charge of your age today and I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you stayed up reading all night."

"I didn't stay up all night this time!" protested Mina.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just… just most of the night."

Carissa gave Mina an amused look. "Come on. Let's go down to the gym."

Mina followed Carissa down to the main training gym for free gym. Each year in the Academy, nine and up, got one half-day a week in free gym, where the trainees could practice on whatever they wanted. Most kids used those days to go right for swords or other larger weapons that the trainers kept from the trainees so that they wouldn't get too big for their britches and try to show off with them. But Mina preferred to use her free gym days to get more practice at the healing stations, which had been beefed up since 125, when Academies were opened in all districts. She was fine with training itself; Mina did enjoy exercising quite a lot. But she much preferred to work on the skills that would someday serve to help others, and maybe even make a big difference in Panem. That was all she really wanted, after all.

As Mina was practicing her tourniquets, she heard a loud scream coming from the general area of the swords, followed by her friend Romil saying, "Someone grab Mina! They'll know what to do!" Instantly, Mina darted over to the sword station to find Hope Patterson down on the floor, a large, deep gash in her leg gushing blood.

This was exactly what Mina had been practicing for.

"I need someone to tell me calmly and quickly what happened."

"We were sparring," a girl spoke up, "and we thought we had dull swords. Clearly, they weren't dull."

"Got it." As Mina began to tie a tourniquet to try to stem the flow of blood, she started delegating. "I need one person here as my assistant who isn't scared of blood. Perry, great. Beryl, you're fast. Do whatever it takes to get a medical professional over here. Tori… Valdez! Our lockers are next to each other. In my bag in the locker room is a sewing kit. Go grab it, and I need it fast also. And I guess someone should go grab Delphine or another trainer?"

"I got it," volunteered another girl.

"Thanks, Honor. Roni and Rita, I'm going to keep you two here as my runners, so if I need any supplies from within the room. And Merida, it's your job to keep everyone else out of the way. Understood?" Everyone nodded. "Fabulous."

As soon as Tori got back with the sewing kit, Mina sent Roni to grab a lighter so she could sterilize the needle and Rita to grab some thread and some hand sanitizer from the medical station. Then, she flicked the lighter on to sterilize the needle. "I apologize if this hurts, Hope. But this is what's gonna save your leg."

As carefully as she could, Mina stitched up the wound in Hope's leg, keeping the skin together as best as she could. Once she finished, Mina realized that she didn't exactly know what to do with the end of the string. She sent Romi to grab a long piece of fabric, which she then sewed the end of the thread into and tied as its own tourniquet around Hope's leg. Just as she finished, Delphine and Carissa arrived with the Academy's medical team.

"All right, everyone. I know you're concerned for Trainee Patterson, but it would be best to go to first period now so the medical team can work," instructed Delphine.

"Do I have to? I want to make sure she's ok," Mina urged.

"Yes, leave it to the doctor. She'll be fine, I promise."

Reluctantly and anxiously, Mina retreated to Carissa, and let the medical team take over. But Mina couldn't focus for the entire rest of the day. All she could think about was making sure that Hope was safe and all right. Just as she was getting ready to go, Carissa called Mina into her office.

"Is everything OK, Carissa?"

"Mina, it's more than OK. When they got Hope to the hospital, they said that your fast action likely saved her leg and her life."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you, Mina? Don't you trust me?"

Of course Mina trusted Carissa. Almost from the moment that Mina started training, Carissa had taken the child under her wing. It was Carissa, of all people, to whom Mina confided when she wanted to transition from using he/him to they/them pronouns, and Carissa had enacted that change across the whole Academy. (Maybe she'd begin using she/her in public someday, but this was at least a step.) "Yeah, I trust you!"

"Then trust me that you proved yourself in a big way. If you can do that at just fifteen years old, and stay that calm under pressure, then your talents are being wasted here in the Academy. How would you feel if I talked to your mother about you going to Twelve to start training there? Even the best medical training we could give you would pale in comparison to what they can offer over there, and you're wasting your time and talents by staying here."

"Well, I don't know. I never really thought about being a doctor."

"Well, give it some thought. I bet that I could even talk to Janari and see if you could stay with her while you study and shadow the doctors over there."

"Really?"

"Yeah! You don't have to decide right now. But let me know, and I bet we can work something out."

Mina spent the next two weeks deep in thought. She always knew that she wanted to help others, but she hadn't quite figured out how yet. Maybe becoming a doctor, and eventually coming back to Two to help those injured during training, was the path to making a positive difference in the world. It would be the perfect way to give back to everyone who'd helped her here in Two. Plus, she'd get to stay with Janari Lovarre. Janari Lovarre! Mina had idolized Janari for years, so to get to actually live with her and hear about her experiences in the Selection and of how she found true love would be nothing less than a dream come true.

And then there was the small matter of finally being able to come out, of being able to live as the woman that she'd known she was since she was ten, but that she'd been too scared to be publicly in a district like Two. She'd be able to wear makeup and grow her hair out, and hot be scared of being shunned and rejected by the district

There was no way that Mina could turn down Carissa's offer.

A few days after she'd made her choice, Carissa sat down with Mina's parents to discuss the matter. It wasn't _necessarily_ that Mina was scared to tell her father what she truly wanted to do with her life because she was scared of disappointing him, and that he was the one who would have the final say in the matter, of course. No, Carissa was just the better person to hear the recommendation from, because she was Mina's mentor, effectively. Her parents definitely couldn't go against the recommendations of a Victor.

As Mina expected, her mother said yes almost immediately, but it took her father a bit more time; after all, it meant giving up on the dream of having a warrior son. Eventually, though, he came around and gave Mina his blessing to travel over to Twelve. Not wanting to chance losing her father's blessing, Mina quickly packed up her belongings, and soon enough was on a train to District Twelve, to a new start, romance novels and all.

* * *

 _Theodosia Cambira, Nominated by Dalvin Huspeck_

* * *

As usual, Cam woke up to a very quiet house. Her mom was home, probably, but she was probably sleeping in as usual. Her mom had never made an effort to help Cam get ready for school, instead just making sure the girl's alarm was set and then letting her fend for herself. And her dad… well, Cam much preferred when her father was not home; it was much better for her, much safer, though it would be nice to not always be alone when she woke up.

As quickly as she could, Cam got ready for the day, more than eager to get out of the house. She quickly got dressed in a brightly colored outfit as normal, quickly smoothed down her pixie cut and brushed her teeth, and then grabbed a muffin she'd baked the day before on her way out the door. Cam was actually a very good cook; it was rare that her parents made food for her, sometimes deliberately but mostly because they just ignored her, and if it wasn't that she needed to make food to make sure that she had what to eat, she might actually enjoy cooking.

Once she was ready, Cam gave herself a quick glance-over in the mirror before bolting out the door. Only when she was a fair distance from her house was she finally able to relax. Cam began to slow her gait, taking deep breaths as she walked freely around the district. Cam often left her house with an hour to kill before she had to walk to school; sure, she could have slept a little bit more, but she was also safer and much calmer when she wasn't at home. She knew that the world was a good place; she was absolutely sure of it, in fact, and she was equally sure of the fact that her home was not a good place. And Cam much preferred to be in a good place than to not be in a good place.

As she sometimes did in the mornings before school, Cam made her way over to the Everdeen Meadow. When Katniss Everdeen passed away, she had left some money to the district for the express purpose of creating a beautiful and safe space in which the children of Twelve could play, away from the air clogged with coal dust. (Little did she know before she passed that Ruby would soon work to make Twelve safe for everyone who lived there, not just for the children.) Dotted with primrose and rue flowers, the meadow had become a reminder of the potential for innocence in Panem, even with the shadow of the Games; Katniss herself was buried right next to the meadow, both as a reminder of how innocence could be lost and so that Katniss could always protect the space that she so badly wanted to create. Cam enjoyed the meadow both because it was really pretty and because it served as a symbol of someone who spent her whole life protecting children, or at the very least trying to, better than Cam's parents ever had. There was something incredibly relaxing about sitting, watching the clouds pass her by, a reminder somehow that everything would be all right someday. Cam spent the whole hour sitting, watching, and relaxing, getting her pulse down and her breathing back to normal, until it came time to walk over to school.

When Cam got to school, she went right to her classroom, where her teacher, Mr. Huspeck, was getting the board ready for class. "Good morning, Mr. Huspeck!"

"Good morning, Cam! It's always nice to hear your sunny voice. How are you?"

"I'm good," smiled Cam. She always liked saying she was doing good; it made even a bad day better.

"That's good." Mr. Huspeck held out his hand for Cam to high-five. "Your legs look really bruised today, more than yesterday. Is everything OK?"

Of all the teachers she'd ever had, Mr. Huspeck was by far her favorite. She generally liked her teachers better than her peers, because her teachers actually seemed to care about her, but Mr. Huspeck took that care to another level. He was kind and always seemed concerned about how Cam was doing, going out of his way to talk to her and watch over her. She barely even wanted to think about what happened the night before, about her father repeatedly pushing her around the house the night before, tripping her and saying, "Oh, it was an accident, just like you were," or how her mother had stopped even calling her by her name and started just calling her "Worthless." But Cam trusted him wholeheartedly and knew that it would hurt worse if she told nobody about what happened. "I'll tell you later, not in public," she replied decisively, hoping the pain would go away so that she didn't have to burden Mr. Huspeck with it later. That wouldn't be a kind thing to place on his shoulders.

Sensing that he wasn't going to get anything more out of Cam for the moment, Mr. Huspeck replied concernedly, "Well, make sure you go to the nurse if they start to hurt worse, OK?"

"OK." Cam brought her bag to her seat and got ready for the morning's class.

The morning passed by quickly, as it always did with Mr. Huspeck; he was incredible at making the material he taught engaging, and also at balancing his time with each student to ensure that they all understood the material. Before Cam knew it, she was following a mass of kids outside to the playground for lunch and recess.

During recess, she milled around the playground, as usual, watching as all the other kids hung out and played with their friends. She'd never really found her place with a friend group at school, something which was sometimes discouraging for the girl. But Cam tried her best to keep the feelings of loneliness and disappointment at bay; she trusted that, someday, she'd find her place in the world, and a friend or two to go with it. After all, the world was a good place, and most people in it were good people. How could people as bad as her parents live in the world? The world was good! Her parents didn't deserve to live in it.

Suddenly, she heard some commotion from two girls who had been playing some sort of ball game. "Where'd the ball go?" yelled one kid.

"I'm not sure. Can someone help us look for it?"

Instantly, Cam ran over. "I can help!"

"Oh, you can?" said one of the girls, in a voice that anyone but Cam would have realized was way too sugary sweet to be genuine. "That would be really great, and we'd definitely appreciate it."

"Oh, no problem," Cam smiled. She liked helping people; it was better to be a kind and helpful person than a mean one.

"I think the ball went into the woods over there." The girl pointed to a section of woods a few yards away. "I would go get it myself, but I'm scared of the forest."

"Oh, don't worry! I got it!" Bravely, Cam made a beeline for the woods and began to search carefully for the ball. Wading through some plants on the ground, she quickly caught sight of something bright white in the dark green plants. She bent down and grabbed the ball, brushing her arms on the plants in the woods as she struggled to get a grip on the ball. Finally, she managed to grab it and confidently brought it back to the girls. "Here you go!"

"Thanks so much!" the girl replied. "You can just put it down; we're playing soccer."

Cam shrugged but placed the ball on the ground anyway. "Can I play, too?"

The girls looked at each other. "I'm working on my shots on goal," explained the other girl, "and she's being goalie for me. So there's not really a place for you to play. Maybe another time, though!"

"OK!" It wasn't worth arguing; if she did, they probably wouldn't want to ever play with her. Cam made her way back to a tree under which she liked to sit. Suddenly, her arms began to itch. Like, really really itch. She looked down and was surprised to find that a bright red rash had appeared on her hands and both of her arms.

That probably wasn't good.

Rather than freak out, Cam made a beeline for the nurse's office. One of the major benefits of living in Twelve was that good medical care was not hard to come by; even medical students, residents, and others who weren't full-on doctors yet and who usually served as school nurses were better than nothing, and they usually at the very least had enough medical knowledge and intuition to handle minor cases like what Cam was dealing with. The nurse on duty took one look at Cam's arms and said confidently, "Well, dear, it looks like you have poison ivy."

"Oh. I must have touched it by accident when I was getting the ball out of the woods for those girls."

"Did you know it was there? Did you check?" asked the nurse as she applied some cream to Cam's arms.

"No," Cam admitted. "I just wanted to be helpful; I didn't even think to check."

"That was very kind of you. Make sure to check next time, though; sometimes being too helpful can put you in danger. You're lucky you only got poison ivy; next time, it could be a bear attack instead."

 _But if I'm not being helpful and kind all the time,_ thought Cam, _how will they like me?_

* * *

Over the few weeks between the Victors' meeting and the Winter Holiday, when their choices were due to President Emerald, Asha spent the majority of her time, to Avalon's chagrin, at Damien's house. The two worked together to prepare and execute the nomination process, which was definitely a two person job as it included visiting every home in the district to help them fill out the nomination forms, using fingerprints and population records to make sure that everyone filled out the form exactly once. They'd at least managed to get a few tablets to use from the Capitol to make things easier; Twelve was the eco-friendliest district, as an attempt to mitigate the environmental damage that they'd caused from decades of coal mining, and they really didn't want to print out nomination forms to pass out to every house lest they cause District Seven to run out of paper.

Once all of the nominations had been processed, the Victors met up again to go through them. They sat around Damien's table; Damien gave each of them a tablet a document of thousands of pages loaded onto it.

"We're not going to read through all of these, are we?" asked Sharen.

"I think we should. But I don't think it'll be that bad; these can't be that long."

It took the Victors nearly seven hours to get through all of the nominations, each Victor reading and commenting on half thems. They then spent another two or three hours debating about who actually to pick and what factors to take into consideration. But finally, they decided on a pair of competitors whom they believed embodied heart better than any other people in the district. "So are we satisfied with our picks?" Damien asked. The Victors all nodded. "Sharen?"

"I guess," shrugged Sharen.

"Great. Let's go tell them!"

* * *

"So what was it like the first time you met Garnet?" asked Mina for the nine billionth time.

"It wasn't super special, honestly," Jan replied, giving the same answer as usual even though Mina clearly wanted to hear something more romantic. "It felt like a lot of pressure on us for most of it – like we were supposed to love him. I remember me and Dania especially could barely focus because we had so much riding on the Games."

"So it wasn't love at first sight?"

"No, not quite. But he was a very nice boy. The poor kid had so much riding on all of his decisions; I felt really bad for him."

"Did he ever confide in you? Tell you any secrets?"

"Nah. He always trusted Elizah a little more than any of the rest of us. I guess it was just an early sign that he'd pick her."

"Do you still keep in touch with the other Selection girls?"

Before Janari could keep going with the all-too-familiar conversation, the two heard a knock at the door. Mina jumped up and ran to open it, finding Asha and Damien standing outside. "Oh, hello," she said, taken a little bit aback.

"Hi, Mina. Can we come in?"

"Sure." Mina stepped aside to let the Victors in.

"Hello there, Damien! To what do we owe this honor?" Janari asked knowingly.

"Well, we're actually here to talk to Ms. Valadian. We believe that you represent the value of heart better than nearly anybody in the district, and we were wondering if you would represent Twelve in this year's Events."

"Really? Me?" Mina replied, surprised.

"Yes," Asha said kindly.

"Well, I'm honored," Mina gushed. "I feel like this is the kind of offer I can't really decline, so I would love to accept it!"

"Excellent. We have to go visit your district partner, but we'll be in touch with more details so we can start working with the two of you together very soon. Congratulations!" And just as quickly as they'd come, the Victors were gone.

"Oh, Mina. I'm so happy for you!" Janari exclaimed, giving the girl an excited hug.

"Thank you, Janari. Thank you for nominating me."

"How do you know it was me?

"Well, I don't know who else would have."

Janari laughed joyfully, affirming that Mina's guess was correct. "You're welcome. Now you have your own opportunity to go to the Capitol!"

"Yeah! Maybe I'll even find someone I love there."

"Maybe."

* * *

When Cam got home from school, she went right up to her room and put her backpack in a safe place under her bed. Then, she went back downstairs to begin making her dinner. As usual, her father wasn't quite home yet, and her mother was lounging on the couch watching the television that Cam wasn't even allowed to sit in front of. Cam got out a bowl and some eggs to start making a scramble for herself; she had to make the eggs quickly so that she could be upstairs before her father got home, an endeavor at which she was successful.

After finishing her eggs in her room, Cam took out her backpack to begin working on her homework. Before she could really start on anything, she heard a bellowing scream from downstairs.

"Theodosia Cambria! Come down here this instant!"

Frightened, and not wanting to displease her father, Cam ran downstairs to her father's side, surprised to see her mother and two other very famous people standing with him. "Hello, father. Hello, Damien and Asha."

"Are you Theodosia?" Cam nodded. "It's very nice to meet you," said Asha kindly, offering her hand to the girl to shake.

"Oh, I don't want to shake your hand. I got poison ivy by accident."

"That was a stupid accident, girl." Cam's father gave her a swift slap over the head. The girl froze up, suddenly feeling her chest tighten as he added harshly, "Just like you were."

Damien cleared his throat. "We are here," he said, bringing the focus of father and daughter back to him, "to talk to Theodosia. We believe that you are one of the two people in the district who best represent the value of heart, and we would like to offer you the position of one of the District Twelve competitors in the Second Events."

Cam was shocked. Who could have nominated her? She knew that she didn't have many… well, any close friends, but maybe she was making more of an impact on others than she thought. Her expression of shock quickly morphed into her trademark smile, and she felt herself calm down and her breathing return to normal, but before she could respond, her father replied, with significantly greedier motivations, "Yes! Theodosia absolutely accepts."

"Theodosia?"

Cam nodded enthusiastically. "I'll do it. And please, call me Cam."

* * *

 **And here's our next pair, Mina Valadian from TheEngineeringGames and Theodosia Cambria courtesy of ANTonio-banderas. What do you think of them? Do you like one over the other? Will they work well together?**

 **A few quick reminders that there is a Discord server for this story, open to submitters and non-submitters alike, and also that it would be very good to keep up to date on reviews because they will come in handy. Make sure to check out the blog as well!**

 **I think that's all for now! I'll see you next chapter, where there will probably be the first check-in of the story! Exciting! See you then,**

 **goldie031**


	14. The Pair from Three

Byte calmly bustled around her kitchen, waiting for Alexei to arrive so they could talk about the upcoming Events. Their primary goal for the day was to figure out how they were going to select competitors; Byte had a feeling that the two had a similar idea, and this was just going to be a meeting to figure out the logistics and how to present the idea to the President.

Just as she was finishing up lunch, Alexei knocked on the door. "Come in, it's open!" called Byte.

"Hi, Byte," Alexei replied more softly as he slipped through the door and closed it carefully behind him. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Alexei. How are you?"

"Good. Is there any way I can help?"

"No, I think I'm good for now. But thank you for offering! Can I get you a drink or anything?"

"Do you have any juice?"

Byte thought for a moment. "No, I don't think so. I'm sorry, honey."

"That's fine. Water works too."

Once lunch was done, Alexei and Byte sat down at the table and began to discuss plans as they ate. "So," said Byte, "we have to figure out how we're picking competitors. That's the biggest thing that we need to worry about at this point."

"Not how well they'll work together?"

"Well, yes. But I don't think that's our biggest concern now. I think we want to think of the best way that we can choose competitors in a way that best fits the district value, and then we'll deal with the hurdle of how well they get along."

"Well, there's one logical way to choose competitors in a way that fits luck, and that's to choose the competitors randomly."

Byte nodded. "I was right. We're on exactly the same page. I was thinking the same thing."

"But then we have no way to make sure they work together well! You need a pair of competitors who won't totally betray or abandon each other."

Byte sighed; clearly, the Ramona/Alexei mess was going to follow her for another year. "We can have the two of them spend time together and get to know each other beforehand; we have to submit names to the President for approval anyway by the Winter Holiday, even though I think that Ruby would let background checks slide for us if she knew we were picking them randomly, so that'll give us a month for them to get to know each other. But I really think that choosing them randomly is the best bet."

"If you think so, then I trust you, as the person who has done this mentoring thing for longer."

"Great. I'll start preparing the materials and personnel for a Drawing of Names."

* * *

Two days before the Drawing of Names, Kubi Quince rolled a six.

Gracefully, Kubi eased himself out of bed and delicately laid his legs down on the floor. He stretched his arms out, arching his back as he slowly woke himself up. Carefully, he got out of bed, then glided across the floor toward his closet. Kubi put on a forest green dress shirt and slacks, then laced up his nice shoes and brushed his hair before making his way downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning, mother," Kubi greeted his mom.

"Good morning, Kubi. Your breakfast is sitting on the table."

Kubi slid into his seat and gracefully took small bites of his porridge. On days like this, when he was merely a damsel, he liked to pretend to be a princess, eating delicacies he could only dream of as people waited on him hand and foot, the picture of compassionate power and everlasting grace and dignity. When he was finished, Kubi got up to go get his stuff together and to walk to school.

"Kubi, your dishes," called his mother after him.

"Can you do it today, mother? I don't want to get my hands dirty."

"Kubi, I'm trying to get your siblings ready for school."

"Do they need help?"

"Dua needs help with her outfit."

Kubi returned to his mother. "I'll help Dua out, OK? I just don't want to do my dishes. And a damsel must never do that which she doesn't want to."

Cura rolled her eyes and gave her son a kiss on the head. "You're too much. But fine, go help Dua. And go quickly, or you all will be late for school."

As quickly as he could glide gracefully, Kubi went into the room that his twin siblings shared. "Dua! I hear you need help picking out an outfit."

"I just don't know what to wear," whined Dua, managing to extend the word wear into a seven-syllable word.

"Well, do you want a dress and tights? Or a shirt and pants?"

"I don't knooooooooow," Dua whined again.

Calmly, Kubi picked out two outfits for his sister that he knew she liked: a pink dress with some tights and a pink shirt with a flower pattern on it and jeans. "Choose one."

Dua visibly wavered between the two options before finally settling on the shirt and jeans. "I guess I'll wear this one."

"Very good. Now, do you need help with your shoes?"

"No, I got it. But can you help me with my hair? French braids?"

"Of course." For some big brothers, it might be annoying to sit and braid their little sister's har. But when Kubi was the damsel, he enjoyed nothing more than helping to care for his siblings. There was something quite calming about sitting with Dua in his lap, helping her with her hair, knowing that she was being helped and cared for. As deftly as he could, Kubi took his sister's hair and wove it into two neat and tidy braids. "There you go, dear."

"Thanks for your help, Kubi. You're the best!"

"Of course. Now, let's get your stuff together so we can get to school."

~.~.

The day before the Drawing of Names, Kubi Quince rolled a two.

Kubi bounded out of bed, ready to seize the day. He quickly got dressed and bounded down the stairs, ready for the day's adventures. Someone, somewhere, needed help, and Kubi was going to be the one to help them.

Almost as soon as Kubi was downstairs, he heard Dua's twin, Unus, call for him. Kubi stopped, turned, and ran upstairs to the twins' room. "What's up, little bro?"

"I can't find my favorite book!" Unus complained. "It's lost. Forever and ever."

Kubi looked at the disaster that was Unus's room. "I don't think it's lost forever and ever. I bet you I can find it."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Carefully, Kubi began to scan Unus's room for any place the book could be hiding. Knowing that he and his brother shared a certain degree of innate curiosity and a love of reading, he had a feeling he knew exactly where it was. Kubi began to root around in Unus's bed, eventually extracting a thick volume and placing it in his brother's hands. "Is this it?"

"How did you know it was there?"

"I had a feeling."

"Thanks, Kubi!"

With Unus helped, Kubi quickly ate his breakfast and headed over to school, ready to be the hero that District Three needed him to be. He ran down the street, looking for anyone who looked like they needed help. Suddenly, he heard a call from a small child. "Help! My cat is stuck in a tree."

Kubi stopped for a moment. He had never heard of a cat actually getting stuck in a tree. He thought that was something that just happened in books and movies. But lo and behold, there was a very cute kitten on the highest branch of a very tall tree, whimpering, and a small child standing by its trunk, crying for help.

This was Kubi's moment.

"Hello, there, young one. What seems to be the problem?"

"My cat. It's in the tree. I don't even know how it got there, but it won't come down!"

"Well, I may be able to be of service. I'll climb up the tree and get the cat for you."

"You will?"

"Of course," replied Kubi kindly.

Never mind that he'd never climbed a tree in his life. This child needed a hero, and Kubi was going to be that hero.

Carefully, Kubi approached the tree trunk and began to shimmy up it, finding it surprisingly easy to find the correct branch on which to place each foot (the adrenaline rush certainly helped as well). Soon enough, he was at the top, and he could see the cat all the way on the end of the branch. "Here, kitty, kitty," cooed Kubi, "come here so I can get you down." The cat began to inch itself along the branch to the calm sound of Kubi's voice, as the boy inched his way towards the animal as well. After a tense period of careful shifting, Kubi finally had the cat in his arms and was sitting safely on a tree branch. "I have the cat!" he called to the child.

"But how are you gonna get it down here?"

"Well, you see, I just so happened to bring a rope with me to school today for a science project." Carefully, Kubi placed the cat in his backpack and took out a rope, then securely tied the rope around the handle of the backpack. "Watch above you!" he called, carefully easing the backpack down into the arms of the very grateful kid below him.

But now came the hard part: how in the world was he going to get down?

~.~.

The day of the Drawing of Names, Kubi Quince rolled a three.

As soon as Kubi saw the number on the top of his die, he winced. On a day as important as today, where there would be so much supervision, this was not the best side of him. (Not that he wanted to go into the Events necessarily, but it would be much better to not get on the Peacekeepers' bad side today.) But Kubi trusted his die, and never rerolled it, so if the die said three, then he had to follow it.

Slightly begrudgingly, Kubi got out of bed, preparing to put his persona on. He put on a slightly nicer outfit than he'd normally wear on three and four days, because it was Drawing day, after all. Then, he got his stuff together and rushed out of the house, but not without hiding his brother's favorite book and his sister's hairbrush first; if only he could be home to see Unus and Dua's reaction when their things were missing and Kubi wasn't there to help find them. By the time he was out of the house, Kubi was committed to the character he would be that day: a villainous troublemaker.

When he arrived at school, he met up with his friend, Sima. "Ready to make some mischief?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," smiled Sima. "Are we targeting…"

"You know it."

Only when Kubi rolled a three or four was he brave enough to face Mena at all, to get a little revenge here and there for all of her bullying over the years. From a fairly young age, Kubi and Mena had not gotten along, and it had only gotten worse as they got older; Mena liked nothing more than to pick on Kubi and mock him for the way that he used his personas to approach the world more bravely and to not reveal his true self, which he perceived to be quite shy and boring. Being the villain was Kubi's only chance to exact revenge on Mena, and so while today might not be the best day to have to play the villain, he never passed up a chance to annoy the girl who had annoyed him for so long. But, of course, even when he did mess with her, he could never do so to her face.

"So, what's the plan today?"

"I want to do something chaotic," grinned Kubi. "Something to really throw her off her game. To completely mess her up, or mess with something she really likes."

"Doesn't she usually play soccer with her friends during afternoon recess?"

"That would be perfect."

Kubi and Sima got together to plot out a plan for how to mess with Mena's soccer game. Sima, who was not picked on by Mena, would run over to them and get into some sort of conversation about a homework assignment she was confused about. While they talked, Kubi would run over and kick their ball into the forest. It was a foolproof plan, one that totally wouldn't have any negative conflicts.

And it totally would have worked, too, if recess hadn't been delayed because of the Drawing.

* * *

As she did every day, Kamela Wisdom woke up at exactly 6:43 in the morning. She turned on the lamp by her bed, then quickly checked her calendar to see what day it was. As it was a Wednesday, she put on a physics-inspired shirt and, reluctantly, a pair of pants (she only wore pants as to avoid frostbite, but she much preferred shorts), then tightly tied her skater shoes and brushed out her short black hair, making sure it was perfectly smooth. Then, she flickered her lamp three times to make sure it turned off and made her way to the bathroom, closing the door of her room behind her, then spraying her hands with alcohol spray to get all the germs from the doorknob off of them.

Being the daughter of an orthodontist as well as someone who much despised germs, Kamela knew the value of taking good care of her teeth, so she always made sure to brush them very carefully in the morning before breakfast and at night after dinner. Kamela carefully wet her toothbrush, then began to scrub her mouth with it, going from left to right for each section of her bottom jaw and then right to left for each section of her top jaw. After she watched all of the toothpaste off of her toothbrush, she repeated the same process with flossing, going from left to right on her bottom jaw and right to left on the top, making doubly sure to clean between each bracket of her braces. When she was done, she carefully placed the floss in the garbage can, then flicked the light on and off three times to make sure it was off and closed the door, spraying her hands with alcohol spray once she was sure the door was closed.

When she got downstairs, Kamela found her mother, Corazon, downstairs, as usual, making her pancakes for breakfast. "Good morning, Mommy!" she exclaimed, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, Kamela. How many pancakes do you want?"

"Three. As usual."

As Kamela's mother finished up the pancakes, Kamela got a fork, knife, and napkin from the cabinet, then placed them on the table, lining them up neatly with the edge of the table and making sure that the fork and knife were equidistant from the plate.

"Do you have anything exciting happening in school today?" asked her mother.

"We're learning about Newton's Laws of Motion in science, so that's exciting! I like physics."

"I know."

"Did you know that the tides are caused by gravity? Like the moon has a certain gravitational pull that causes the ocean to move in and move out." Kamela then went on a seventeen-and-a-half-minute long tangent about the precise nature of lunar tides. She frequently did this; not always on the subject of lunar tides, but on basically any topic of physics that you could imagine. Kamela loved physics, a lot. With her trademark smile on her face, she had a tendency to talk the ear off of anybody who would listen, and even people who didn't; unable to read social cues, she would just continue talking until she lost the ability to focus or the other person excused themself from the conversation.

Once Kamela was finished with her breakfast, she carefully laid her fork and knife down back where she found them. Then, she double checked to make sure that she had everything in her backpack, organizing them by name, placing the first book alphabetically closest to her back, as usual. Then, she zipped it up, double checked that she had her alcohol spray, put on her favorite cozy blue-gray sweatshirt, and gave her mom another kiss, finally ready to make her way over to school.

When she arrived at school, Kamela made a beeline for the tree by which she and her friends sat before school started. "Hi, everyone!" she exclaimed.

"Right on time, Kamela," smiled her friend Daphne. "7:46 on the dot."

"As usual."

Zinnia, the third of the four girls, waved to Kamela, then tugged on Daphne's sleeves and pointed to the paper in front of her, on which she had written, _Chess?_ Kamela nodded as Zinnia pulled out a tablet from her bag. Chess wasn't Kamela favorite thing in the whole wide world, but she appreciated how the program they used helped her to visualize all the possible scenarios. Plus, she and Zinnia always played a game every morning before class; if Gretel arrived before they had to go to class, she would probably join Kamela's team, just like she always did.

As Kamela was thinking about a move, Zinnia grabbed her piece of paper and wrote, carefully, _Drawing?_

"Sure, I can draw something," replied Daphne, who frequently drew for Kamela and Gretel to help them understand concepts or what Zinnia was trying to communicate.

Zinnia shook her head, then mimed something that Kamela couldn't quite make out. "Oh, yeah, that is today," Daphne realized. "That explains why I've been feeling so nervous."

"What is?"

"The drawing to choose the Events competitors."

"Oh. Right," Kamela said quietly. She didn't mind the Events as a concept, but they disrupted her daily schedule, which she really didn't like. When the Events (and, for that matter, the Games) were televised, it meant that school was out, which was annoying because she liked learning, and that she had to watch mandatory viewing instead of practicing her programming or studying more; she liked the structure of her life, its order, the day-to-day repetition that she worked so hard to maintain, and consequently disliked anything that disrupted it.

As usual, Zinnia and Kamela finished their game just as the bell rang, indicating that it was time for school to start. The girls went right to their lockers; Kamela lined her books up alphabetically in her locker, then grabbed all of her books for her morning classes and headed off to her first-period class: programming.

Kamela and all of her friends were pretty good programmers, so they were placed in a programming class with the kids in the CompSci program. After programming came science electives; Kamela always picked physics because it was her favorite science subject, as did Gretel, who preferred math but chose physics because it was the science closest to math. Physics was also good because it involved a lot of pictures, which was helpful for Kamela, who was a visual learner. It also helped that she, quite simply, loved physics, and it was the only class that she could focus in for more than the first half hour.

After physics, it was time for history class. Kamela and her class were learning about the first World War, an ancient war that was really hard to understand, especially because her teacher mostly lectured and didn't use many visual aids. She also didn't quite understand why it mattered; Kamela liked learning, but why learn about a war that happened on a continent that was destroyed? It didn't make any sense to her."

"OK, class," began Mrs. Molina. "Let's start with a quick review. Does anyone remember the MAIN causes of World War 1?" Kamela usually didn't raise her hand in class. It was scary talking in front of a lot of people she didn't really know, and besides, there were always other people to answer questions in District Three. "Yes, Marco."

"Militarism, Alliances, Industrialization, and Nationalism."

"Very good. And who remembers what set off the war? Isis?"

"The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand."

"Excellent. And who were the powers? Mirabel?"

"The Allied Powers and the Central Powers."

"Very good. Now, today we're going to look at some maps that can help to explain how exactly World War I affected the borders of Europe at that time." Yes! Kamela could understand maps! They were just pictures! Maybe she'd be able to focus a bit better today.

Mrs. Molina pulled up a map on the board; it really just looked like a big blob with a punch of lines haphazardly drawn on it. "So, this is the map of Europe as we generally recognize World War I powers. The red countries are the Central Powers, and the purple ones are the Allied Powers. But the way these alliances formed was not so simple."

Instantly, Kamela knew that Mrs. Molina's maps were not going to be helpful. See, Kamela had a condition called tritanopia, or blue-yellow colorblindness; among other things, it meant that she could not distinguish between purple and red. Pictures were great learning tools for Kamela, but only when she could actually read them. That meant that's she had to focus on Mrs. Molina's words, but, as usual, after 30 minutes, she was totally unable to focus.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, history class was over; unfortunately, now it was time for English, an even harder class for Kamela to focus in. Finally, it was time for lunch. As she passed the cafeteria on the way to get her lunch, where she would meet Zinnia, as usual, Kamela found that the cafeteria was closed, to prepare for the Drawing later that day. Now how was she supposed to find her friends so they could eat together? Frustratedly, Kamela stormed to her locker to grab her lunch box and was happy to see that Daphne was already there waiting for her, looking a lot a bit nervous. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah. I just… before every drawing, I get this really strong feeling that it should be me on that stage, no matter who gets picked in the end. But there's no reason to be nervous today; it's a happy drawing!" Daphne perked up. "Anyway, we're gonna go eat outside."

"I'd rather be in the cafeteria."

"I know. There's nothing we can do; they had to get it ready for the Drawing."

"I wish they'd at least let us know," grumbled Kamela.

"I know." Kamela put on her sweatshirt and followed Daphne outside to their tree. The four girls spent lunchtime eating and talking (or, in the case of Zinnia, signing or writing), as usual, Kamela comforted by the presence of her friends. Despite the little hiccup, things were back to normal, back to the way they were supposed to be.

Little did she know that, in just a few minutes, everything would change.

* * *

It was still a bit unusual for Byte to not feel nervous on the morning that she was to select a pair of children to go to the Capitol. Everything in her was saying to run, not to trust whoever said that nobody would die. But she knew that there was nothing to be afraid of; Ruby was a trustworthy woman, and she'd done so much good for Panem that it was really Byte's duty to trust her.

Byte made her way to the main school in Three, where the Drawing would take place, where she met up with a representative from the Games Fairness Council sent to draw the slips. "Good morning, Madam Councilwoman."

"Good morning, Byte. How are you today?"

"Very good. And you?"

"Very good, thank you."

The two waited quietly together until it was time for the Drawing, which would be taking place during recess. The children picked would then be taken out of class for the afternoon to fill out some paperwork with Byte and the Capitol official, but for the most part would remain in normal classroom settings until the Send-Off Ceremony when they would leave for the Capitol for the Events. As Byte entered the room in which all of the Drawing-eligible kids were waiting, she felt a sense of excited energy taking over the room. So many of the kids wanted so badly to be on that stage; in her decade or so of mentoring, she'd never stood in front of a room of excited children before.

It was a great feeling.

As soon as the Games Fairness Council member stepped forward to draw the slips, an excited hush fell over the crowd. Just as had become their custom for the Games, she would draw both slips out of one large ball; Byte and Alexei had decided that each child would have their name in the ball once and only once. The Councilwoman swished her hand around in the bowl, before carefully choosing two slips, an effort to make things go quickly. In a clear, loud voice, she said, "I'll make this a quick process. Will Kubi Quince and Kamela Wisdom please stay back here. Everyone else is dismissed."

As the crowds dispersed, grumbling, a young boy remained behind with a look of shocked excitement on his face. Kubi was very surprised that he'd been picked; there were so many children in Three! How could it be him? And more importantly, how could he be the center of attention for this much time? It would be a challenge for the boy, sure, but a challenge he and the hero and the damsel were looking forward to. The villain? Maybe not so much.

His district partner, Kamela, was less excited herself, though her friends were thrilled for her, swarming her and congratulating her on the opportunity, then dispersing to allow Kamela to do whatever she needed to do with Byte and the Capitol woman. Kamela really wanted to be excited; really, she did! But everything in her was anxious; anxiety from the crowds who had surrounded her as the names were being picked, anxiety from the changes to her routine that the Events would bring, anxiety because… well… what wasn't there to be anxious about with this much newness? Not to mention the pressure of representing Three.

But Kubi and Kamela would both have to get over their nerves; luck had a way of surprising everybody, and considering that the two of them were indebted to luck for their place in the Events, they both assumed that it would not be the last time that luck played a role in the competition.

* * *

 **Here's another chapter! A bit of a late update today but it is a Sunday so I count it. Anyway, here are our two new competitors, Kamela Wisdom courtesy of Platrium and Galaxy842's kiddo, Kubi Quince! Do you like one better than the other? How will they do as a team? Do you think they represent luck in any way except for how they were picked to compete?**

 **Also, to acknowledge the elephant in the room: this chapter is a bit shorter than some of the others we've seen, but both Kubi and Kamela got their requisite longer sections which are right on target with my target word count. It just feels shorter because there aren't really any mentor sections or family reaction sections, but I wanted the chapter to feel a bit more like a Reaping chapter, but less of a big deal, because this isn't the formal send-off. Don't worry, though; we'll get to see more of these competitors as the Events go on.**

 **We've hit the halfway point of the intros! That means it's time for a check-in! Please send me how your competitor would interact with the other teams in the pre-Events, as well as their birthday, if you haven't already; feel free to send over discord or PM, whichever works better.**

 **Hopefully, I'll see you next week with another district! Any guesses?**

 **Goldie031**


	15. The Pair from Ten

"Man, that was a tough math test," complained Ramona Wayland, as she and her friends walked out of the school building.

"I just don't understand geometry at all," echoed her best friend, Serena. "But at least we're practically done with that unit now!"

"Thank goodness. If I have to look at another triangle, I'm going to scream."

Changing the subject from the hated math test, Serena asked, "My mom got me a new string kit yesterday. Wanna come over and make friendship bracelets?"

"Oh, that would be so much fun! I actually have to go to Victors' Village for some pre-Events preparations. But maybe I can come over when we're done!"

"Sounds good! Just give the door a knock."

Ramona peeled off from her friends and made her way over to Zolt MacEnroe's house. About halfway there, she felt someone grab the handle of her backpack. "Hey, let go of me!" she exclaimed, but before she knew it, her small frame was being pulled up into the embrace of Kitt Mosley. "Kitt!"

"Hi, squirt! How've you been? I've missed you."

"I missed you too!" While Kitt and Ramona were certainly not best friends, which Ramona attributed to him being old and her not being old and also him being a girl and her being a boy, they got along quite well; Ramona looked at Kitt as almost a big brother, and she was always happy to see him. "Are you excited for the Second Events?"

"I think so," Kitt said, as he starred walking over towards Victors' Village without putting Ramona down. "It's gonna be very different from being in the Games but that's certainly not a bad thing."

"That's true. Hey, can you put me down?"

"We'll get there faster if I carry you. You're too short to walk fast."

"I'm not short!"

"Well, you have short legs."

Ramona pouted, but stopped protesting and allowed Kitt to carry her all the way to Zolt's house, chatting and catching up all along the way. When they arrived, Kitt deposited Ramona on the front stoop mostly carefully, then knocked on the door. "Come in!" called Zolt. "The door is open."

Kitt and Ramona entered the house and found themselves in an explosion of suitcases. "What happened here?" Ramona asked.

"I'm back from Three for a little bit and then I'm going back so I'm unpacking and doing laundry and repacking. But don't mind the mess. Come on in!" Zolt led the pair through the maze of piles to her kitchen. "I don't have much to offer by way of food or drink but there's water in the sink that's OK to drink." Zolt bustled around to try to find cups, managing to procure a mug, a glass, and a champagne flute. "OK, here we go. Now, let's talk the Events. Basically we gotta choose two competitors, and most of the other districts have been getting the opinion of all of the mentors and I thought you two would have good opinions. So, what do you think? We need two kids who represent friendship."

"I think we should pick a pair of friends," asserted Kitt. "That's a great way to demonstrate friendship: two competitors who know and like each other."

Ramona grimaced. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"A couple of reasons. First, that's the obvious approach, and I think it's a copout for us to go with the obvious approach when we could do something much more creative. And secondly, and maybe more importantly, if you have players who know each other too well, the pressure could get to them and they could start arguing and it could all fall apart."

Kitt and Zolt thought for a moment. "You know, that's fair," Kitt said. "I can understand that. Maybe instead, we should just ask kids to tell us who they think is the best friend. Take nominations, if you will."

"But, I feel like I don't know if there's a good way to ask kids who they think is a good friend," Zolt interjected. "They'll all either say themselves or their friends."

"Is it a bad thing that they'll say their friends? Isn't that the whole point?" said Kitt.

"Yeah, but then if a kid has a lot of friends, they'll have a better chance. I think someone with fewer friendships that are stronger would be a better candidate than someone with lots of friends," Ramona concluded.

Zolt thought for a moment. "Hmm. I have an idea. What if we randomly choose two kids, one from those who go to North City for the Reaping and one from those who go to South City for the Reaping, and then we interview their friends about how good of a friend they are? I think that's about as fair of a way to do this as we can get; there's no way to do this without some sort of subjective nature, and I also don't think we have enough time to survey everyone in the district this close to when we have to submit information on our choices to the president."

"And when is that?"

"The Winter Holiday."

"Zolt, that's in like three days!"

"I've been too busy with research to think about anything else. Do you like the idea though?" Kitt and Ramona looked at each other, then nodded. "We can make our choices now to get the process going. Come with me." Zolt led Ramona and Kitt over to her computer. "As the oldest living Victor, I have records of all of the Games-eligible and Events-eligible kids, and I've done lots of data analysis on it, so I can easily randomly select one kid from the North City group and one from the South City group."

"Will Ruby approve of that method?"

"We're still vetting the kids after we pick them, and she also gave me these lists in the first place. So I don't think she'll give us much trouble – at least, I hope not." Zolt frantically typed a bunch of stuff into her computer. "OK, I have our competitors, assuming they have friends and that their friends don't hate them and/or that they're not horrible people. From the South City group, Alder Eltier, and from the North City group, Marshall Kane."

"Fantastic," smiled Kitt. "Let's start interviewing their friends and classmates."

* * *

"Alder might not have many close friends, but he's been an incredible friend to me; once, he noticed I looked sad, so he checked on with me, and that's how we became friends. But the best part about Alder is that he's an incredible friend to so many people in the district who don't know even know him. He does so many random acts of kindness to make the district a better place, but silently, so people don't know that they have a new friend who's helping them with so many things. Does that make sense?"

* * *

Alder Eltier lived in a pigsty.

Well, thankfully, he didn't actually live in a pigsty; rather, he lived in the most urban Area of District Ten, another thing for which he was very thankful. But his house might as well have been a pigsty. After all, his mother didn't like cleaning, preferring to live "naturally" and "one with the earth." And his father also didn't like cleaning, especially if it would make his mother's life easier (which it probably would). It was just one symbol of the increasingly rocky relationship between Alder's parents, and while Alder certainly hoped that things would get better between at some point, he knew that the only way to fix the situation was to clean the house himself. And it actually did help matters a great deal. When Alder took some time to clean the house, Korring thought her husband was finally getting some work done, and maybe that he'd forgiven her for the Marcella incident, and Gillian thought that his wife had finally changed her ways and would maybe start to keep the house cleaner. It was a bit more work for Alder, but for sake of maybe making his family life better, it was worth it.

Of course, Alder usually went to bed before his mother, and always before his father, so if they made any sort of mess while he was asleep, it wouldn't be cleaned up before he woke up. Consequently, heading down for breakfast was usually a mission akin to navigating a minefield; one wrong move and he could end up stepping on something incredibly painful, or even dangerous.

After navigating around a stack of pillows, a very tall stack of glasses, and a haybale that his father, probably, somehow got into the house, Alder finally got downstairs, he came upon his father, looking very sleep-deprived as usual, eyes darting back and forth, clearly on alert about something. "Good morning, Dad. What are you looking for?"

"It's not a what. It's a who. I want to make sure your good-for-nothing mother didn't bring anybody home last night."

"Dad, I really don't think…"

"I'm not letting your mom get away with cheating again, no matter what it takes. She says she loves me; why doesn't she show it?"

Not wanting to push the subject further, Alder grabbed a plate and piled it high with breakfast. He was a teenage boy, after all, and teenage boys had to eat a lot to keep themselves healthy. Someday, if he had to work on a farm, which he hoped never to do, he would need to be big and strong, which eating a lot would help with; at least, that's what his parents told him when he was younger while urging him to eat.

Clearing away some magazines and a pile of dresses, Alder took a seat at the table and scarfed down his meal so that he could start cleaning up. He organized all of the dishes

After doing the breakfast dishes and putting them away, Alder called for his sister. "Mousy!" he yelled. "We have to go to school."

Komara made her way downstairs, her mouse-shaped face set in its usual stony position. "You know I hate that nickname," she grumbled.

"Uh-huh."

Unable to hold her persona, Komara broke into a shy smile and ran into her brother's waiting arms. The two of them had always been close, even as far as siblings go, but they'd become much closer in the wake of their parents' falling out. Komara had chosen to cope with the new chaos of her life by putting a wall down between her and the world; she wasn't a mean person, but being in the popular crowd at school made her feel like she had a degree of control over at least a part of her life. At least, that's how Alder interpreted her choices. In his view, being mean was never the answer; instead, it was better to do little things to help others. It had worked around the house, so why wouldn't it work outside the house?

Once the dishes were done, Alder and Komara headed out to school. On their way, Alder made sure to keep an eye out for the homeless people in the city, especially those who were sleeping, and drop of some food for them; nothing much, just little loaves of bread that he made sure to bake periodically so that he had what to give out to those who were less fortunate. He even bagged them up so that the homeless people could save them if need be, and also so that he didn't have to actually hand the loaves to them. It was that he was scared or embarrassed to; no, Alder simply preferred to be an anonymous giver. He heard somewhere that giving charity when the recipient didn't know the donor's identity was the highest form of charity; Alder tried his best to live up to that ideal, working hard to keep his identity a secret while helping others around the district. He almost felt like it was his duty to help others, to make their lives a little bit better in any way that he could, no matter how small, and if he could do so without them knowing who helped them, that would be even better.

When they got to school, Kamora and Alder split up, Kamora hunting down the rest of her friend group and Alder seeking out his closest friend, Eri. The two generally weren't in a lot of the same classes, and this year they had different lunches so they relied on their mornings and afternoons to see each other. Unfortunately, Alder couldn't find his friend before first period began, so he would just have to wait until after the school day was over to hang out with Eri.

At the end of the day, Alder got his stuff together, then went over to the back door of the school to wait for Eri; the two had planned to meet there that day to go swimming in the lake on the outskirts of the city. Alder liked swimming in the lake, a lot, but he couldn't go to the lake on his own because it meant passing by the Old Mountain Farm when they walked to the lake from school; he relied on Eri to help him keep calm and walk past the farm.

A few weeks after Alder arrived at their meeting place, Eri arrived. "Hey!" Alder exclaimed, giving Eri an awkward dude hug, which Eri reciprocated equally awkwardly. "How was your day.

"Good. You?"

"Same old at home. One of these days Dad's gonna crash. He can only keep an eye out for another of Mom's flings for so long."

"How's Mousey holding up?"

"I think she's tired of everything, just like I am. It's been so long since things were stable. But I don't want to think about that. Let's go to the lake. It calms me down."

"Once we get there," Eri smirked. "Come on. I want to swim."

Eri set out in the direction of the lake. Alder quickly caught up with him, despite being slightly shorter, striking up a conversation about their days at school. The conversation went well for about a mile, until the boys came upon the edge of the farm property. Instantly, Alder felt himself tense up. His breath became short, and he broke out into a sweat. Eri instinctively rotated to the other side of Alder's body, so he didn't have to be next to the fence of the farm. He held Alder's hand, helping the boy keep regular breathing and stay calm. Quickly, Eri led Alder past the farm over to the lake, easing him carefully down to sit on the ground next to the lake. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm OK."

"You know having a fear of animals is a completely irrational fear to have in District Ten, right?"

"I know. But who says that I have to live in Ten? I could move to any other district, especially one where there aren't goats."

"You could, but then you'd have to live away from me."

"Come on," Alder said, quickly changing the subject. "Let's go swimming." Alder stripped off his top and bottoms and jumped into the lake. "Are you coming?"

By way of an answer, Eri stripped his shirt and bottoms off and jumped into the water; his taller and stronger frame splashed a tremendous amount of water all over Alder. Alder grinned maliciously, then splashed viciously all over Eri. The two spent the rest of the afternoon splashing wildly at each other and just generally having a grand old time, until the sun set and they had to make their way home, both very wet and both very happy.

At least they didn't have to pass any farms on the way back.

* * *

"I've known Marshall since I was a little kid; we've been in school together for years. Marshall is such a great friend, always there for those around him and willing to lend a hand. Most importantly, though, Marshall stands up for me when people pick on me. I'm lucky to have a friend like Marshall."

~.~.

"Marshall and I work together at the butcher shop. His boss is absolutely horrible to his workers, but he seems to have a special dislike for Marshall. One day, I stood up to the boss for Marshall, and we became friends; I've always been impressed by how willing Marshall is to do what's best for those around him, even if it makes his life more difficult in the process."

~.~.

"Marshall's always been very friendly and helpful. I don't know him very well, but he's so kind and helpful, especially to those who need help most. He's a great person to be around."

~.~.

"I hate the little bugger."

* * *

As usual, Marshall Kane woke up early, before the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling to the hundreds of roosters in the farms of Ten that it was time to wake up. It was that you couldn't possibly be a late riser in Ten, because you'd be woken up by all the roosters if you tried, but Marshall was up even earlier than the earliest risers today. He always did a few hours of work before school; his boss preferred his workers to work in the morning so that he could have stock for the day. Groggily, Marshall put on a dirty t-shirt and jeans, then his work shoes, and shuffled out the door and down to the butcher shop.

"Good morning, Mr. Marsh," Alder greeted his boss.

"Kane. Get to work."

"Yes, Mr. Marsh."

Marshall put on his coveralls and took his seat at his workstation, at which Mr. Marsh had already set up a cow for him to butcher. By this point, Marshall had butchered so many cows that he could butcher one in his sleep, which was what he effectively had to do during his morning shift. Marshall grabbed a knife from a knife kit and began to butcher the cow, carefully separating all of the different cuts of meat and laying them out on the table behind him. Marshall hated work, but if he had to, he minded working the early shift least; being the only person in the shop meant that he didn't have to interact with other people, which Marshall was generally happy about.

About an hour into his shift, Mr. Marsh came to check on how Marshall was doing. He took two of his flanks and measured them out on the scale. "Kane!" he screamed. "You idiot! Your cuts aren't even! I told you that they should be exactly sixteen ounces. This one is 15.5 ounces, and this one is 16.5 ounces. You need to do better and be more precise."

"Yes, Mr. Marsh."

"I'm taking you off of the cow. Go sort the entrails."

Marshall groaned. Sorting the entrails was the worst job; you had to dig your hands into this bucket and sort the entrails out into these other little buckets. If it needed to be done, which seemed to be daily, Marshall always sorted the entrails before school, because after school, if he worked, he worked the counter; Marshall had this hunch, though, that Mr. Marsh just dumped the entrails he always sorted back into the bucket, because they always seemed to fill up the same amount, no matter how many times he sorted. But, he didn't want to make a fuss; Marshall heard that if he made trouble in the morning, it would only make it worse for his coworkers who came in later in the day. So, day in and day out, Marshall sorted out the same bucket of entrails, knowing full-well that all of his hard work would be for nothing.

After what seemed like an eternity, Marshall's shift was over. "I'll see you after school, Mr. Marsh," he announced, as he stripped off his coveralls.

"You'd better."

Marshall returned home to get changed into nicer clothes for school. When he came downstairs, his parents were bustling around the kitchen getting breakfast ready. Marshall smelled strongly the pungent scent of coffee, which was equal parts a delicacy and a necessity in a district where the roosters and the sun determined your sleep schedule. He traded a kiss for a mug from his mother, then sat down in front of a steaming plate of eggs and potatoes (with all the chickens in Ten, eggs were far from a commodity). "How was work this morning?" asked his father, opening up the newspaper as he sipped his coffee.

"Fine," shrugged Marshall, digging into his breakfast. "I had to do entrails again this morning."

"Again? Why do you still work for him?"

"He pays well. Really well. I like earning enough money to give a bit to you guys and still have some pocket money." The one thing that kept Marshall going through his hatred of his work and dislike of his boss was the fact that he could give a little money back to his parents; helping others, especially his family, made him feel really good, so he tried his best to put up with work as best as he could.

"Yeah, that's not a bad reason," Kolt nodded understandingly. "But if things get bad, you need to get out of there before you put yourself in danger. We can make due no matter what; I don't want you getting hurt."

"Yes, Daddy."

Marshall finished his breakfast, then ran upstairs to change for school. He put on a slightly nicer t-shirt, pair of jeans, and pair of sneakers, then gave his mother and father a kiss before leaving for school.

When he arrived at the schoolyard, Marshall went right to class, ready to learn for the day. School days were pretty short in the rural areas of District Ten, like where Marshall lived, as the majority of the kids were needed to help out on family farms; it was perfectly normal for school to start at nine in the morning, take a break for lunch, and end before three. And being in a district like Ten, kids rarely spent their time indoors for lunch, as even the coldest winter days weren't that cold.

At lunchtime, Marshall grabbed lunch from the cafeteria and took a seat under a tree, knowing full-well that his friends would soon come to find him. He wasn't the biggest fan of people in general, but he kind of put up – well, a bit more than put up – with Appa and Terra. Appa and Marshall were childhood friends, who had stuck with each other through thick and thin; Marshall just hoped that Appa would someday gain the courage to stand up for himself. That was something that Terra was good at; Marshall appreciated how she stood up for him to his boss every time she came in to the butcher shop. If Marshall ever needed to stop being friends with them for whatever reason, he knew that Terra could take his place as Appa's protector.

"Hey, Marshall!" called Terra, walking across the yard with Appa in tow.

"Hi!" Marshall called back. "How are you?"

"Good! How was work?"

"It was work," shrugged Marshall. "I don't want to think about it anymore."

"That's fair."

The other two sat down and put their trays near Marshall's. "Wanna race before we eat?" asked Marshall. "Better to do it before than after."

"Don't we do this every day?" Appa asked.

"Yeah, and?"

"I'll pass today."

"Terra?"

Terra smirked at Marshall. "You know it. Appa, can you watch our stuff?"

"I guess so," shrugged Appa.

Terra and Marshall jumped up and stretched out, preparing for their race around the playground. "You're going down."

"No, you are."

"Three, two, one, go!" counted Appa. And Terra and Marshall were off, all the way around the perimeter of the playground. Terra was fast, but Marshall was faster; there was something for him about the feeling of running, of the wind rippling through his dark brown hair. Before Marshall started working in the mornings, he used to run every day before school; one of the advantages of not living or working on a farm in an early riser district was that he could be alone, not around people, while everyone else was doing their morning chores. He missed those days a lot; running and racing with his friends made him feel good, and brought him back to the days before Mr. Marsh and the butcher shop.

As Terra and Marshall ran, Marshall heard a cry from the area where the younger kids were sitting. Marshall paused, thinking about whether or not he actually wanted to help the child. But he knew that, when he arrived to help the children out, the kids would laud him as a hero and a savior. And it would make him feel so good inside, as helping others always did for him.

But if he let Terra beat him, she'd never let him live it down; it would be humiliating, because he'd never lost to her.

Marshall picked up the pace, finishing his lap so that Appa could see that he won, then instantly turned around and ran to the younger kids. "I heard screaming. Is everybody OK?"

"Angie fell down! She's hurt!" yelled a little child.

"Do you want me to take her to the nurse?"

"Yes! Yes!" chorused the kids. "Help her!"

Marshall carefully picked the girl up and cradled her in his arms. "OK, don't worry, she's safe with me."

"You're the best, Marshall!" exclaimed one of the kids. All of the kids clamored around him excitedly; carefully, Marshall stepped out from the crowd and headed to the school building to drop Angie off at the nurse, beaming internally.

It was good to help people because it made Marshall feel great.

* * *

It was right around the Winter Holiday when Alder came home to his father holding out a pink envelope to him. "Dad? What's this?"

"I thought it was a letter from your mother's paramour because it was in a pink envelope so I opened it. But it turns out it's actually addressed to you."

Alder tried to hold his frustration inside as he gingerly took the envelope from his father's hands. He slid his finger under the already opened flap, noticing how sturdy and nice the envelope felt. He took out the piece of paper it contained and unfolded it, noticing how clumsily folded it was. "Did you read it?" he asked his father.

"Yeah," his dad replied sheepishly.

Alder opened the letter and read it. Then he read it again and again. "They picked me."

"I know."

"I… I can't believe it."

"I'm so thankful it wasn't for the Games." Gillian opened his arms to his son, a glimmer of his former sweet self peeking through. "I'm so happy for you!"

"It says that they thought I was a good representation of friendship. But I'll probably have to spend some extra time in South City before the Events to get to know my partner, this says."

"We'll make due. This is such a great accomplishment and you should feel very proud of yourself."

A big smile emerged on Alder's face. There was no risk of him dying, but he would get the opportunity to journey to the Capitol, meet new people, and maybe even help some people out along the way.

He couldn't wait to tell Eri.

* * *

Marshall rarely brought Terra and Appa home with him, mostly because they just liked spending time running around outside when he didn't have work, but also because Marshall's parents could be kind of embarrassing. But on a rainy day, he and his friends had to pick one of their houses in which to hang out, and today that responsibility fell to Marshall.

It turned out that Marshall picked the perfect day to hang out at his house.

When they arrived, Marshall caught sight of a pink envelope peeking out from under the door. Intrigued, he picked up the letter. "What's this?" he asked rhetorically.

"A letter from a girl," responded Terra teasingly.

"I doubt it," blushed Marshall. He opened the envelope quickly to avoid further teasing from Terra, then read the letter quickly. "It says I've been picked for the Events!" exclaimed Marshall.

"Let me see!" Terra exclaimed. She grabbed the letter from Marshall's hand and read it quickly. "That's so exciting!"

"Did you know?"

"No," Terra said, badly lying.

"You knew."

"The Events theme thing for Ten is friendship. Of course I knew. But it doesn't matter! You're going into the Events!"

"I'm so excited for you," gushed Appa, trying to get a word in edgewise around the boisterous Terra.

"Thanks, guys," Marshall smiled, pleasantly surprised but excited for the challenge that lay ahead. "I guess I should go tell my parents. Mom's probably gonna smother me."

"Figuratively or literally?" Terra asked.

"Maybe both."

* * *

 **And here's our pair from Ten, Marshall Kane courtesy of Reader Castellan and Alder Eltier from santiago . poncini20! What do you think of them? Are they good representatives for friendship, or was Ten just a bit desperate? Do you like one more than the other?**

 **A quick note: I fixed up the formatting for Kubi's section last chapter, so feel free to check that out again and it might make more sense now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you next week, hopefully!**

 **goldie031**


	16. The Pair from Four

"All right, guys," Zander Neptune said, leading Ariel Marsh and Sol Mikkelson into his kitchen. "I have the stack of nomination papers here for you to read through. Have you decided how you're going to filter through them?"

"Yeah," Ariel replied, Sol nodding along. "I think we're going to take the person with the most nominations, as well as the person with the strongest nomination."

"That's a smart method," acknowledged Zander. "Similar to what we do for picking Games tributes, but not quite identical. Just… please run your nominees by me before you send them to Ruby to make sure that we don't send an idiot or rulebreaker into the Events. I don't want us to be in the same situation Five was in last year, even if it means ruling out the most-nominated person in the district."

"Don't worry. You can trust us."

As a Career district, more or less, the process of selecting children to represent them in competition was not a foreign one for District Four. But as the district with the smallest Career system, District Four gave their own trainees unparalleled input in selecting their representatives. Children of Reaping age were allowed to submit one nomination for every slip of paper they would have in the bowls if they took no tesserae, so twelve-year-olds could nominate one person, thirteen-year-olds two, et cetera; the mentors would generally ask the children to justify their reasons, to make sure that a child was being nominated for their skill and because they wanted to be in the Games, and not because of jealousy or for revenge. Of course, the mentors could choose the degree to which they listened to the nominations they received, and the children recognized that the opinion of one mentor could overrule any and every nomination received. As they already had an effective selection system in place, Four's mentors had elected to enact the same system for the Events, with the caveat that the children had to justify their nominations and explain why they exemplified courage. But that meant that the stack of nominations to read through was a very large one, much larger than the stack of Games nominations.

It was going to be a long day.

"Now, are you sure you can handle all of these yourself? Reading through nominations can be a lot of work." Zander asked the pair, who nodded energetically. "All right, then; in that case, I have to head over to the Academy now. Good luck, you two!"

"Thanks!" chorused the young mentors, before diving into the stack of papers in front of them. They first sorted them alphabetically, so that they could count up the nominations for each child and figure out who had the most before beginning the reading process, which would eat up much more of their time. Once they'd finished sorting, they began reading, not even breaking for lunch; even so, they hadn't even made it three-quarters of the way before Zander returned home at the end of the day.

"How's it going, you two?" Zander asked, sizing up the two very tired-looking teens.

"This is a lot of words," Sol complained. "We're still not done!"

"Well, a lot of people sent in nominations this year! I think the kids used every nomination they had, which doesn't always happen. Do you want help getting through them?" Sheepishly, Sol, then Ariel, nodded. "I thought so." Zander took a seat next to the younger mentors, helping them weed through the pile of nominations, showing them how to filter out the nominations that were illegitimate in some way to speed up the process. Then, they began to work through the legitimate nominations, to try to figure out how to choose just one child who well-represented bravery. As they read and read, one page began to stick out above all the others. Sol picked up the paper and held it up to the other mentors. "What do you think of this one?"

"That is really, really brave," mused Ariel as she read. "I can't believe we didn't pick up on this nomination before. I like him."

"Me too," Zander echoed, looking over Ariel's shoulder. "So do you have two, in that case?"

"I think so," Ariel proclaimed, looking for confirmation at Sol, who nodded tiredly. "I think so."

* * *

 _Strongest Nomination: Augustus Nero, nominated by Aurelia Nero_

* * *

"We just have to be brave," asserted Augustus Nero's sister to her brother.

"That's what you keep saying, but you know how Mom and Dad are," Augustus responded. "Do you remember when Watson Holter came for his Victory Tour? Our parents boycotted the Tour because he identifies as genderfluid."

"Yes, but that was four years ago. I'm sure they've changed."

"I'm not so sure."

Augustus's sister sat down on her bed and put a comforting hand on Augustus's shoulder, beginning to rub his back. "When I tell Mom and Dad, the only big thing that would change is that you would apprentice under Dad instead of me, and since he works in the Academy, so would you, but you're already training so that's fine. And I'm their favorite. Many people who hold anti-LGBTQ+ opinions like our parents do only hold them because they're not exposed to people who identify as a part of that community. I think once they learn that I'm trans they'll come around. Everything is going to be fine."

"I hope so." The two fell silent, Augustus nestling closer into his sister's side, cherishing what might be one of their last moments living under the same roof. Augustus was usually a confident person; even at fourteen, an age when many kids were losing their self-confidence, Augustus still glowed with poise and self-assurance, a source of pride for both him and his parents. But Augustus couldn't shake the feeling of nerves, the pit in his stomach that indicated that things would not go nearly as well as Aurelia assumed. Scared of losing his favorite sibling, Augustus was trying to take advantage of this moment, because it could easily be their last.

"Have you chosen a name yet?" Augustus asked, to change the subject and hopefully diffuse the ominous feeling that persisted.

His sister sighed. "Not for sure yet. I'm strongly leaning towards Aurelia, but I'm not super super sure."

"By when do you have to declare?"

"Once I come out, I'll go to the Justice Building and formally change my gender. Then I think I have two weeks to choose? I'm not super familiar with the legal stuff of transitioning but they'll go over it with me when I go to the Justice Building."

Augustus kept asking Aurelia questions about her transition until they heard the door to their house open. "That's Dad," Aurelia said, easing Augustus off of her lap and standing up. "The time has come." Instinctively, Augustus stood up and followed her. Sensing that her brother was still there, Aurelia turned around just before she reached the stairs and put a hand on his shoulder. "You should stay here."

"But I want to be with you!"

"Augustus, I need this to be just me and Mom and Dad. I think it'll go better that way."

"But…"

"It needs to be just the three of us. OK? Go wait in your room, and I'll tell you what happens when we're done."

Accepting that this was what was best for Aurelia, Augustus nodded, then gave her a big hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Aurelia turned back around and went down the stairs.

Anxiously, Augustus went back to his room, evaluating the consequences of Aurelia's conversation with her parents. Obviously, the best possible scenario was for everything to be A-OK and for his parents to love Aurelia just as much as they loved Maximus. But Augustus was far from convinced that that would happen, and was much more inclined to believe that the worst-case scenario, Mom and Dad kicking Aurelia out, would soon become reality, which led to a big question in his mind: if Aurelia were to leave, what would happen to Augustus? His oldest sister, Livia, was already moved out of the house with her husband, Aries, and his younger sisters, Tauria and Tullia, were way too young for Augustus to form a connection past their blood, mostly because he had no concept of what they liked. He'd be left alone in the house, with his intolerant parents and crazy little sisters, no friends, no people to talk to.

Augustus was scared of being alone.

Augustus waited for what seemed like an eternity in his room for Aurelia to come back, to tell him that everything went OK and that their parents loved her and accepted her just as they'd loved Maximus. But as the minutes passed by and Aurelia didn't come back upstairs, Augustus knew that something had gone wrong.

It didn't matter that he'd told her to go to his room. Augustus had to make sure that Aurelia was OK.

Carefully, Augustus opened the door to his room and crept towards the stairs. As he was going down, he heard shouting and screaming and crying on all fronts, punctuated by a loud "Get out of my house!" Frightened, Augustus ran back to his room, but not before he heard his father say, "You're not my son anymore," and slam the door in Aurelia's face.

Augustus was all alone.

In the weeks following Aurelia's departure from the house, Augustus noticed a marked change in his parents' interactions with him. His father started giving him way more attention and a bit more food, and his mother started checking in on him more regularly, making sure that he had everything he needed. If Augustus needed clothing, it was there. If he wanted his favorite food, his mother made it, no questions asked. If he needed help with something training-related, whether in or out of the Academy, his father was right there to answer the question and to help his son. Augustus couldn't lie; he liked the extra attention that he was getting from his parents. He knew that his parents were inclined to favor Aurelia before… well… anyway, he didn't realize just how much they favored her. Everything in him wanted to relish the attention he was receiving from his parents. And for a few days, he did. Until one day, he came home to find a note from Aurelia stuck carefully in his hidden stash of white chocolate.

 _Augustus,_

 _I don't know if Mom and Dad have withheld communication between us but I'm hoping you find this note before they do. I wanted to let you know that I'm… OK. I'm OK. I came back today to pick up some of my stuff. The Academy placed me in a dorm there for now, so that'll give me some time to figure out my next steps; if you want to chat, I'll be around._

 _I love you and I miss you._

 _Aurelia_

As he read the note, Augustus felt his stomach drop; what kind of a brother was he if he was enjoying his parents' love and attention when Aurelia had been stripped of that luxury? He had to do something to help her out, to make everything right – well, as right as it could be. He had already distanced himself from his parents' beliefs, and while he wanted nothing less than to go against his parents' interests and further divide their family, he could not bear to leave his sister out in the lurch. This was the time to act.

Augustus grabbed a jacket and ran out the door, right to the house in which his sister and her husband lived. He knew that Aries had grown up with a much more liberal and open upbringing than Livia and would have no problem accepting Aurelia; the question was whether or not Livia could put aside her prejudices to take Aurelia into her house regardless of her identity. Augustus and Livia were never particularly close, a byproduct of the six-year age gap between them (not to mention the male-female gap that always plagued Augustus's relationships), but she was his big sister, and Augustus trusted as he knocked on the door to her house that she would make the right call.

"Oh, hi, Augustus," Livia greeted her younger brother, a bit surprised to see him. "Is everything OK?"

"More or less," Augustus admitted. "Can I talk to you and Aries?"

"Sure." Livia stepped aside to allow Augustus in, then fetched Aries and led her husband into the sitting room, where Augustus was waiting.

"I need to talk to you about Aurelia."

"Who?"

"Aurelia. Our sister."

Livia cocked her head. "We don't have a sister named Aurelia. We have the twins, Tullia and Tauria."

"Well, she was once Maximus. Now she is Aurelia. She's transgender."

"That's not possible. You're the gender you're born as. That's how it works."

Augustus began to defend his sister, but before he could, Aries cut Augustus off, shaking his head. "Livia, that's not the case. You can't change the sex you're born as; that's genetic. But your gender identity can be different from your sex. So some people are born as men but are actually women and vice versa. And some people are transgender but they don't identify as any gender; they're non-binary or genderfluid or the like."

"But how does that happen?"

"We can talk about it later. I have a feeling things did not go well when Aurelia came out."

"That would be correct," Augustus continued. "After Aurelia came out to our parents, she was kicked out of the house; she snuck in to get some of her stuff but I haven't seen her at all since she left. Apparently, she's dorming at the Academy but I'm sure you know that the dorms at the Academy are not the best place to be. I don't know where she is, or what to do, but I want to make sure she's safe. She can't come back to our house, but can she live with you?"

Livia and Aries looked at each other. Livia was clearly uncomfortable with the developments on which Augustus had reported; Augustus attributed it to their parents and upbringing more than anything else. She pulled Aries into another room; Augustus couldn't hear the content of their conversation but got the feeling that it was pretty heated. Thankfully, a few moments later, Aries returned. "Livia's… taking time to process. But I'll make sure Aurelia gets here safe and sound and that we protect her, and I'm pretty sure Livia will come around."

"Thank you, Aries. Let me know when you have her, OK?"

"OK."

For the next few days, Augustus waited anxiously for news from his brother-in-law. His patience was rewarded when a letter came for him from Aries, which contained a short note from Aurelia.

 _I don't have much time because I have an appointment at the Justice Building, but I'm at Livia's house_ _safe and sound. She seems a bit uncomfortable still, but we'll get through this together. Thank you for standing by my side, even though you went against our parents to do so. You're really brave, you know that?_

* * *

 _Most Nominations: Marilyn Porcher, who received over 70 nominations_

* * *

March Porcher stood in front of the mirror, curling a tendril of their long brown locks around their finger. Carefully, they lifted the piece of hair high above their head, then balled it up all the way close to their scalp. With their other hand, they repeated the process, taking another tendril, curling it around their finger, and pressing it close to their scalp.

There was still so much of their hair left.

"Marilyn!" called their cousin Philo. March winced. "Are you almost done?"

"Yeah!" March called back. Quickly, they washed their hands, then opened the door of the bathroom to find Philo standing right there, fist held up as if ready to slam on the door again. "Sorry."

"I was getting worried that you'd fallen in or something."

"No, my bathing suit just got stuck," lied March, tightening the cords on their water shoes and stuffing their clothing into her bag. "It's one of the ones with the weird crossy straps, you know?"

"No. I'm a guy! I don't know how girls stuff works." March felt a familiar twinge in their stomach, a small bout of anxiety fluttering up inside of them. "But come on! We have to get to the cliffs in time for her first jump." Philo grabbed his younger cousin's hand and took off, weaving through the streets all the way to Giant's Bluff, a series of cliffs overlooking the ocean far enough away from Victor's Village that Philo's parents would never know what he and his cousin were doing. They probably wouldn't not approve of cliff jumping, but the general unspoken rule between March and Philo was that what their families didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

When they arrived at Manning Cliff, March and Philo found many people gathered on the cliff, a number of whom were wearing bright yellow safety vests, meaning that they'd been jumping for less than three months. While cliff jumping at Giant's Bluff was a frequent pastime of many children in District Four, there were a number of unspoken yet commonly known safety rules to make sure that everyone was safe. Kids went to the cliffs in groups of four, generally with one fast runner and one good climber if possible: if one person got hurt jumping off of the cliff, a second person could go get help, a third could carefully scale the cliff and see the status of the injured party, and the fourth person would stay on top of the cliff so the authorities would know which of the cliffs on Giant's Bluff to go to. Often, a pre-teen would be examined using the Academy's facilities by a teenager who had been cliff jumping for a while before being allowed out onto the actual cliffs for their first jump, which was almost a right of passage for children in Four; even after their first jumps, they usually had to ask their mentoring teenager to go with them for a few times before going out by themselves. Most children preferred to go out with their mentors for the first few times, regardless of whether or not district custom required them to; cliff-jumping was a favorite pastime, but it was also a scary pastime, and most kids needed a boost to help them gain the courage needed to take the leap.

Of course, March was not most kids. They jumped their first cliff when they were eight and a half on a dare, and not even the baby cliff that most kids start on; no, March started with Goliath, the biggest cliff of Giant's Bluff. Marilyn didn't even think twice about it, fearlessly leaping off of the cliff into the big wide ocean below. Every time they jumped off of that cliff afterwards, it brought them back to their first brush with danger, the adrenaline that coursed through their veins as they plummeted into the expanse of the ocean that was a part of his lifeblood and the lifeblood of everyone in the district. It was, for the most part, one of March's favorite memories. But they weren't entirely sure if they loved the impression it left on the rest of the district.

"Hey, it's Marilyn!" called out one of the kids, pointing excitedly at March as they and Philo approached Manning Cliff; one of the smallest cliffs conveniently situated right over a deep part of the ocean, Manning was the perfect place for a safe first jump. "She's the bravest girl in the whole district!" March's stomach twinged. "I bet she'll help you jump off the cliff!" Almost instantaneously, a group of kids began to swarm March, clamoring about the exciting event of the day: Aria's first jump.

"Guys, I know it's Aria's first jump today. I've been mentoring her for the jump." March had taken on young Aria when he learned that she was nervous about joining the Academy despite her desire to; to help her get used to the facilities and structure of the Academy, March had elected to mentor her for her first jump. They navigated their way through the crowds to the young girl, wearing a bright orange First Jump life vest and generally looking like she was going to faint or throw up or both. "Hey, Aria. How are you feeling?"

Aria looked up at March, her sea green eyes filled with worry. "OK," she squeaked out.

Aria was not OK.

March put down his bag and knelt down to the level of the much-shorter Aria. Barely eleven, and both small and lean for her age, Aria was less than two-thirds the height of March and probably also about two-thirds of his weight, yet March's kind and calm demeanor made them an approachable favorite of the children of Four. "Look, I know the first jump can be scary. But you're gonna be so proud of yourself once you're in that ocean! People are going to say, look at how brave Aria is! She knew she was scared, but she took the leap into the ocean anyway! Before you know it, you'll be jumping off of Goliath."

"I don't think so. I don't think I'll ever be as brave as you, Marilyn. You're the bravest person in Four!" March felt a little twinge in their stomach again. "And I'm… I'm just Aria."

"I think you will, Aria. Come on." March took the girl's quivering hand and led her to the edge of the cliff. "Everybody else, please stay back. Aria needs some space." Everyone instantly obliged, listening to their role model and respecting the girl they'd taken under their wing. "Now, before I jump, I remind myself of all the reasons why what I'm going to do is very safe. It's a short jump and a very deep ocean beneath it. And you see over there? That's Zohar and Didi. They're my friends, and they're out in the ocean to get right to you if something happens; trust me, they're very good swimmers. You passed the open-water swim test, and you're wearing a life vest. You are completely safe, OK?"

"That doesn't make me less nervous," admitted Aria.

"Would you like me to go first to show you how safe it is?" Aria vehemently nodded. "OK. Here goes." In their trademark fearless way, March leaped off of the cliff, landing gracefully in the ocean below, making barely a splash. "See? All safe."

"But you're bigger than me!"

"Aria. I believe in you. You can do this."

Something in Aria's eyes lit up when March said that. "You believe in me?"

"I do believe in you. Do you believe that I'm here for you?"

Aria took a deep breath. "Yes."

"OK. Now jump."

"I can't!"

"Don't think about it. One, two, three!"

Aria closed her eyes and jumped, landing safely, with a little splash, just a few feet away from March. "Whoa," she smiled.

"How was it?"

Aria looked at her hand, which was outright shaking. "Not bad."

"Would you do it again?"

A small smirk crossed her face. "I think so."

"That's my girl," March smiled, rustling Aria's hair proudly. "Now, let's get out of the way before we get jumped on."

Aria and March spent the rest of the afternoon taking turns jumping off of Manning Cliff, March going first and Aria following close behind. Finally, on the last jump of the day, Aria went first, jumping before March even counted to three, March beaming with pride as they watched her jump mostly fearlessly into the water. As they dried off and prepared to go home, Aria exclaimed, "Marilyn, you're the best! Maybe someday I _will_ be as brave as you!" throwing her arms around March's waist.

March felt the familiar twinge in their stomach again. It had only been getting worse lately, as March became surer and surer that they weren't a girl. They knew every time someone called her Marilyn, every time they complimented their hair and body, every time a guy even tried to hit on her. It just wasn't right. But now the district had an image of "Marilyn Porcher, the bravest girl in the district." She was someone who would do anything, try anything, fearlessly. And March tried his best to uphold that image; if he didn't he would be a disappointment to everyone, to his family, to his trainers, to the hundreds of kids who looked up to them. But by not being a disappointment to everyone else in the district, March was only being a disappointment to themself.

A twelve-year-old in District Two, of all places, was more herself than March was. If March wasn't open about their true identity, how could he truly be brave?

* * *

Augustus and his best friend, Felix, walked back together from training to Augustus's house. At least, to everyone else, they were best friends. In reality, Felix and Augustus were more than friends, much more. But Augustus was not ready for the rest of the district to know that they were together, nor that he was gay. Yes, he selfishly didn't want to lose his parents' favoritism just as Aurelia had. But, more importantly, he couldn't bear to tear the family apart more than it already was. So, for now, their relationship would have to remain a secret.

Hopefully, Augustus would be brave enough to tell someday. He couldn't take the feeling of being a coward any longer.

When they got home, Augustus's mother greeted him at the door with a kiss, as usual, and an envelope, which was unusual. It was royal blue and looked very sturdy, nice, and official. "We got this in the mail today," she announced. "It's for you."

"For me? What could it be?"

"I'm not sure," admitted Cassia to her son, "but it looks very official."

Augustus carefully opened the envelope and slid out the letter, giving it a quick read before reporting, "I've been selected for the Events!"

"Oh, darling!" exclaimed his mother. "I'm so proud!" She fell on her son again, giving him exorbitant hugs and kisses.

"Thank you, Mommy."

"Now, you go play and I'll make you your favorite dinner."

"Mom, I don't play anymore. We hang out."

"All right, dear." Cassia gave her son another hug. "I love you."

Augustus led Felix up to his room and closed and locked the door, then turned to his boyfriend, who pulled Augustus in for a passionate kiss. "I'm so proud of you, my courageous boyfriend."

"Thank you," Augustus blushed. "Hopefully I'll make you proud. And then maybe, if I win, my parents will love me so much that they won't care if I'm gay."

"That would be the dream, wouldn't it?"

Augustus smiled, pulling Felix in for another kiss. But in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if he really deserved this honor. If he wasn't open about his identity, how could he truly be brave?

* * *

The anniversary of March's grandparents' funeral was always a rough day for them and their family. Everyone had been hit hard by the loss of the matriarch and patriarch of the Porcher clan; if nothing else, it had tampered their pro-Games mentality, as they finally realized the hurt that loss could cause. (That was a relief for March, who had no interest in entering the Games and was only pushed in after their cousin, Calytrix, won; in retrospect, they respected their training and how it strengthened them, empowered them, and made them more courageous than they ever thought possible, even though they were forced into it against their will.) On days like this, the Porcher family put in every effort to spend time together, because nobody knew when their last day together as a family would be.

As March prepared for the big family dinner that night, they heard a knock at the door. "One minute!" they called, finishing putting their hair in a bun before opening the door to reveal their younger sister, Daisy, hands behind her back. "Hey, Daisy! Want me to do your hair?"

"No. Well, yes. But that's not why I'm here." Daisy held out a royal blue envelope to March. "This looks very official. And it's for you!"

March carefully took the envelope from their sister and opened it, revealing a letter from the mentors of Four. Excitedly, March read it, and reported, "The mentors chose me for the Events!"

"Really?" Daisy exclaimed.

"Look!"

"That's so exciting!" squealed the girl, throwing her arms around March's waist. "I'm so proud of you!"

"And I get to tell everybody on today of all days. It'll certainly lift everyone's spirits." March lifted his sister up and swing her around, pulling her tightly into a hug.

"You know what, Marilyn?" Daisy admitted. March felt the twinge in their stomach again. "I nominated you because you're the bravest person I know. I bet that's why they picked you!"

"I bet that's why, too," March replied kindly. But in the back of his mind, March couldn't help but wonder if they really deserved this honor. If they weren't open about their identity, how could they truly be brave?

* * *

 **Here we have another chapter, March Porcher courtesy of CelticGames4 and Augustus Nero courtesy of mistycharming! What do you think of this pair? Is there one you like better than the other? How do you think they fit the value of courage? Will they work together well?**

 **I'm moving into a very stressful stretch of school this week, so I'm not sure how long it'll be before the next update; I'm hoping before the end of March, but we'll see. Until then, don't forget to check out the blog, and feel free to check out the Discord as well!**

 **S** **ee you soon, I guess!**

 **goldie031**


	17. The Pair from One

"So, where are we going exactly?" asked Jess, as she and Jasmine rode down the road to a part of the district that she'd never been to before.

"We're going to meet up with the competitor I selected."

"And you're sure Steven picked them?"

"We conferred on Academies, and we're picking from different Academies, so that's good. He seemed a bit surprised that I was picking from North Star, but I happen to know that one of the trainees there exemplifies commitment more than any other trainee in the entire district. And I doubt she would be picked for the Games, which is a very good thing."

"Why?"

"Because then we're not taking someone that Sparkle or Vane might want to send into the Arena someday, and because that means we're not quite subscribing to Career stereotypes by who we pick."

"No, I guess I more mean why was he surprised that you're picking from North Star."

"North Star is kind of known for being the Academy for helping people train who might not otherwise have had the opportunity to. So a lot of kids with various special needs, blindness, deafness, chromosomal disorders, anything you can think of fits into North Star. Basically nobody from North Star has ever been selected as a volunteer, but they commit more to their training than anyone in the district."

"So how do you pick just one?"

"Well, I wasn't even originally thinking so much about this Academy; I knew it existed, but didn't know so much about it, or at least. But then I got a letter from the mother of one of the competitors, and it impressed me so much that that's what drew me to North Star in the first place."

* * *

As usual, Pax Imperioli woke up hungry. Or maybe it was cramps; she really couldn't tell. She couldn't seem to keep any food down, but she really wasn't all that hungry, so it could easily be both.

Weakly, Pax crawled out of bed and went right to the bathroom, where for at least the third morning in a row, she threw up. Once she was done, she crawled right back into bed and curled up into a little ball. There was no way she was going to make it to training today. It just wasn't going to happen.

A few moments later, her mother came into the room, carrying a little tray. "Good morning, Mom," Pax croaked out.

"Hi, honey," said Demetria sadly, rubbing her daughter's back. "How are you feeling?"

"Not good. Not good at all."

"Well, let's try to get some breakfast into you."

"OK," said Pax sadly. The girl wasn't used to being sick like this. For years, she had been at the top of her class, probably a shoo-in to win the volunteer slot when she was old enough. But in the past week, Pax had begun to feel sick, sicker than she'd ever felt in her life; she couldn't keep any food down, and everything coming out on the other end was either diarrhea or blood. Everything in Pax wanted to push through, to tough it out and get back into training sooner rather than later, but it was becoming clearer by the minute that this was no normal flu or stomach virus. Something was seriously wrong.

Demetria placed a bowl of oatmeal and a piece of toast in front of her daughter. "Eat up, sweetie."

"I'll try." Weakly, Pax picked up the peace of toast and began to nibble on the corners. She didn't really have an appetite for anything, but she knew it was important to eat; Pax managed to get through the piece of bread before she was unable to put anything else in her mouth.

Twenty minutes later, she threw up again. Demetria came running, rubbing her daughter's back to keep her calm. By the time she was done, Pax was shaking, she was so weak. "Come on. We're going to the doctor."

Carefully and slowly, Demetria helped her daughter out of bed and led her over to the garage. After bucking Pax, under a blanket, into the passenger's seat, Demetria got in the car herself and slowly drove to the hospital, trying her best to make sure that Pax didn't get carsick.

When the got to the hospital, Demetria helped Pax out of the car and supported her all the way into the hospital, where Pax sunk into a chair as her mother checked her in. Before she knew it, she was being helped by a nurse into a wheelchair, then wheeled into a room. The nurse helped her get into the bed then quickly took Pax's vitals as she talked things over with Demetria.

"So, what seems to be the problem?"

"Pax is just not keeping food down. That's the big thing. She's been having really bad cramps, some diarrhea, and I think also some bleeding, right?"

"Yes, out of my butt," Pax feebly explained. "And a lot of pain. Like, a lot a lot of pain."

The nurse nodded. "When was the last time you were able to keep food down?"

"We got some protein shakes into her two days ago, and she had a tiny bit of water yesterday, but other than that there's been no nutrition."

"Got it." The nurse wrote some stuff down on some paperwork, then reported, "Well, she has a fever, but I could even tell just by looking at her that something's wrong. Let me go get a doctor and we'll start running some tests."

It took a little while before the doctor came in, during which Pax could not stop her leg from shaking. Pax hated nothing more than laziness, inactivity, and not being able to do things. Pax wanted nothing more to be out of the hospital, preparing and training for the Games, so to be bedridden like this was really something that made Pax unhappy. Sure, she'd been sick before, but never like this, unable to even stand up without feeling shaky. Everything about it was horrible.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor arrived and began to talk through Pax's symptoms with her and her mother. Ve decided that the best course of action to take was to hospitalize Pax over the day and run some basic tests; if none of those came back positive they'd wait it out a few more days, and then take greater measures. They would also put a feeding tube into Pax so that she could gain nutrients and regain her strength; hopefully, when Pax got better, she'd be able to get back into training quickly.

Of course, all the initial tests came back negative: no flu, no strep, not pregnant. The doctor and Demetria elected to keep monitoring Pax for a few days to see if things got better; if not, they'd start running X-rays. So, for five agonizing days, Pax lay in her hospital bed, without any answers or diagnoses or treatments. She was stuck.

For most of the first day, it bothered Pax that she was stuck, unable to train, to work on her mile time or improve her weapons skills or anything. By the second day, though, Pax had an idea. She had her mother go to the library and take out all of the books about fighting strategy, edible plants, survival skills, and previous Games; if she was going to be stuck in this infernal bed, she might as well prepare for the Games in other ways. Determined to absorb as much information as she could, Pax planned to read and take notes on one book, then do the same for a second, then review her notes on the first book before moving to a third. But she underestimated just how fatigued she was; she barely made it through half of the first book before she was worn out by the volume of information that it contained, and even reading couldn't get the pain to subside. For the first time that she could remember, she actually had to put the book down and take a break, during which she inadvertently ended up taking a nap. She woke up an hour and a half later, very thrown off; this was very unlike her, and with everything else going on, it was kind of overwhelming. Understanding that maybe she'd need to take a break, Pax resourcefully elected to gain information from the various nurses who came to treat her, asking them random medical questions that might come in handy in the Arena. She also learned a bit about how to work with different types of people in the process; some nurses were more than happy to answer the girl's questions, while some preferred to just do their job and get out.

After a few more days, during which Pax made no progress medically, her medical team decided that it was time to run more tests, a decision that Pax was very happy with; maybe they'd be able to treat her so she could get back to training. They ran all kinds of tests on her: an MRI, a CT scan, a colonoscopy, blood tests, blood cell scans, so many tests that Pax didn't even know all of their names and couldn't keep track. It was then another day or two – by this point, Pax was losing track of what day it was – before the doctor came back to give her and her mother a diagnosis, a grim look on his face. He started with a bunch of medical jargon, basically explaining to the two women what diagnoses he and the medical team had ruled out. "So, having ruled everything else out," the doctor explained, "we can pretty confidently diagnose you with Crohn's disease."

"What's Crohn's disease?" asked Pax.

"Crohn's is an inflammatory bowel disease. It basically means that your digestive tract is inflamed, which makes it hard for you to digest food. It affects different people differently, but it looks like you have a particularly severe case of it. And, as of now, there is no cure for it."

Pax let the news sink in for a moment. She didn't quite understand what the diagnosis meant, but like many children in One, one thought ran through her mind. "What does that mean for my chances of getting into the Games?"

"Well, it's going to take a while for us to get your body to the point where you can even digest food, and you're going to be dependent on medicine for the rest of your life. I really don't know if you'll be able to gain the strength to even get back into training, and if you do, I highly doubt you'll be able to make it into the Games. But that is even so far into the future. Let's focus on the next steps to get food back into your system so you can start to heal up, and maybe get some of the pain to subside."

As her mother and doctor began to talk the more technical jargon about diets and medications, Pax sat stunned. In what seemed like one moment, everything that she had worked for – the Games, the Victory, the glory – had been ripped out from under her. What was once an exciting future had swiftly been replaced by a future of hospitals and IVs, of medicine and of taking things slowly, day by day.

That was not the life that Pax wanted. What was the point of living it?

* * *

"After her diagnosis, Pax went through a period of depression," Jasmine explained, "as both her doctors and her trainees told her that she couldn't train and she believed him. But, somehow, a little spark of hope prevailed, and Pax began training. She hoped to return to her old Academy, but the only one that would take her was North Star. It didn't matter too much to Pax, because she was committed to training anywhere she could, so she could get into the Games; she was determined to be the first ever volunteer to come out of North Star. Her mother specified in her letter to me that Pax, knowing that she would not be the physically strongest tribute, chose instead to focus on observation and other mental skills to give her the advantage over her competition."

"Of course, with Crohn's disease, there was no way she would ever make it into the Games; it would just be too risky to have someone that frail and that dependent on medicine representing One. Everyone seemed to be on the same page about this except for Pax; her mother, intelligently, saw the Events as both a way to reward Pax's commitment and a way to hopefully alleviate the pain when she would someday not be selected for the Games."

"So I've got a tribute who has a killer story but might not be physically the strongest," Jess concluded.

"Exactly. Although, knowing Steven, I would bet he chose someone who is known for their physical strength. Which is good, because then our two competitors will balance each other out."

* * *

"So, where are we headed?" Wins asked.

"We're going to the main Academy in One, Emeril Academy. Have you ever been there?"

"Not really. Because of my legs," Wins excitedly kicked up his leg as they continued walking, "I was enrolled in a special Academy for the training I had. But I didn't train all that much because I prefer dance and floorball."

"Understood," nodded Steven. "Well, if you'd like, I can give you a tour after we're done. Our task is to find and break the news to our chosen Events competitor."

"And you're sure Jess and Jasmine didn't pick yours?"

"We split up the Academies just to make sure that wouldn't happen, and I claimed Emeril right away because I already had a competitor in mind. I know of no other person who is more committed to training and being a tribute than him."

"So why shouldn't he be a tribute?"

"Well, he's only sixth in his year, and being this close to the Games, I don't know if he'll be able to crack the top five, or even get the volunteer spot; plus, last year, we exempted the top five per gender per year, so that's what we're going with this time as well. I think it's silly to say that nobody who's in the top hundred or whatever nonsense could be picked because we want strong people to give Two a run for their money. And, well…" Steven hesitated, unsure if the third reason was appropriate to tell the younger kid.

"What?"

"Well," Steven covered himself, "his family might just be the most committed family to training in the entire district."

* * *

He arrived home from training, exhausted, as usual, sweat dripping from his brow and honestly unhappy to be home. It wasn't that he disliked his family or his home; no, he was lucky to have a large and opulent house, a loving mother and father, and a sister who would hopefully someday understand his desire to train for the Games when he came back a Victor. The problem was that coming home meant that he couldn't train more. Everyone said that "taking a break was good for you" and that "eating and sleeping were important," but for him, everything was secondary to training.

Well, everything except for one thing: remembering why he was training in the first place.

"All right, kids! It's time to walk down the Hall of Altomares!" called the boy's father, Giorno Altomare. "The Games draw ever-closer, and we must remember all those who came before us."

The walk down the Hall of Altomares was a monthly occurrence, weekly as the Games drew closer, just as it had been for many years; it was a way to remind the Altomare preparing for the Games of all of those who had come before him and failed. Despite the fact that the Altomares were one of the oldest and most well-established families in One, and despite the fact that, as soon as the Careers were established in One, they had been training for the Games, and despite the fact that they were physically well-built and dedicated to their training, not a single Altomare had ever made it into the Games. It was a statistical absurdity that frustrated every successive generation of Altomares, and as child after child failed in their task, parent after parent became more desperate. This pressure had once fallen on Giorno, pressure that he was now channeling onto his son.

"Bianca not coming?" asked Giorno as his son bounded around the corner.

"Nope." Giorno's younger child, Bianca, used to participate as well, but having grown up, she was wise enough to understand the dangers of the Games; it frustrated the girl to no end that her older brother and her father couldn't see what she saw, and she was more than thrilled when her father let her off the hook for all future Hall of Altomares walks.

"Well, then it's just us, son. Let's get going." Swiftly, Giorno led his son along the familiar route of winding corridors until they arrived at a long marble hallway, lined on both sides with elegantly painted portraits in gold frames.

"The first Altomare to try to volunteer was…"

"Alabaster Altomare."

"Very good. He was in contention for the Eleventh Games, but got the stomach flu a few days before the Reaping."

"Which is why we always make sure to get enough sleep and eat our fruits and vegetables." The boy was not very good at either of those things. They took time away from training.

"Very good. After Alabaster came Majesty, who was in contention for the Thirteenth but then sprained his ankle so he was knocked out of contention."

"Am I going to have to memorize all of the Games someday?"

"No, they're on the nameplates under their pictures. See?" The son nodded. "OK, let's continue. As the Games progressed, the trainees became more competitive. The first ever victor of sabotage in the Academy was, in fact, a member of our family; poor Polo Altomare was poisoned by the second-place trainee and was unable to volunteer. After a few more years of poor trainees, we finally had our shot when the First Quarter Quell rolled around. The conveniently named Democracy Altomare was poised to get the people's vote…"

"Oh, I remember this story. That idiot Xyno killed the other guy and One felt obligated to send them in over Democracy to get them out of the district. Incidentally, Xyno would be killed at the hands of One's Victor of the Quell, Chrysoberyl Mitt."

"Correct. Democracy was devastated, but she carried with her the optimism that she was the last of her generation of Altomares; surely, the next generation would have more luck. She herself was not wrong; her son, Scorpius, would go on to win the 47th Games. But he did not bear the name Altomare. His last name was Jacobson.

"The plight of the Altomares continued. The very next year, an Altomare was selected. But things did not go exactly as they planned. Christy Altomare was a good citizen of Panem, and when she saw an old man fall down just before the Reaping, she couldn't help but stop to help the poor soul out. Unfortunately, the man had a deep gash in his skull and bled all over her nice white Reaping dress. That certainly wouldn't do for the chosen volunteer, and really for anyone going somewhere where there were many Peacekeepers, so once the old man was somewhere safe, poor Naima had to run home and change. Along the way, however, she was stopped and questioned by Peacekeepers, who both wondered why she wasn't at the Reaping and why her nice white dress was covered in blood. Poor Christy was jailed, missing her chance to volunteer.

"The next two Altomares we don't talk much about, but it's important for you to hear their stories so you know what not to do." Giorno became a bit more uncomfortable. "Both of them were picked as volunteers but chickened out. Orb Altomare managed to impregnate his girlfriend a few months before the Reaping and didn't want to leave their child alone. And Salem Altomare was the most superstitious person in One, deciding not to volunteer on the morning of the Reaping because they broke a mirror and walked under a ladder, and saw a bunch of other bad omens, at least so they said. Thanks to Orb and Salem, it was another five years before any Altomare even had a chance.

"All right. Let's jump to Gedalya Altomare, who was set to volunteer for the 49th Games. Unfortunately, a stampede of goats had escaped from Ten into the Wilds around the district, and somehow managed to not get caught, eventually finding their way into the streets of One and trampling Gedalya over, severely injuring the poor kid. If you've wondered where the fear of goats that seems to run through our family comes from, it's Gedalya.

"By the time that Sassania Altomare was eighteen, she had had enough of stories of failed Altomare after failed Altomare, and was going to stop at nothing to get her chance. She had learned from her ancestors' misfortunes how to stop someone else from going into the Games, and decided to unleash revenge on everyone else. She sabotaged the fourth-place trainee, poisoned the third-place trainee, and was, like, two days away from murdering the second place trainee before her plans were discovered and she was jailed.

"In the sixties, One took a slightly different approach to choosing their tributes, deciding to work exclusively in pairs. The pair system would backfire spectacularly for two Altomares, Gemi and Adonis. Gemi was all set to volunteer with her pair for the 62nd Games, until her partner got sick; holding true to their system, One went to their second place-pair, knocking Gemi out of contention. Adonis ended up with one of the most beautiful girls in One for his partner; the two fell so deeply in love that their love knocked them out of contention for the Games.

"The fourth quarter-century of the Games featured a number of ridiculous reasons for Altomares to not enter the Games, most of which happened when the volunteers were selected as One became more careful about choosing volunteers who would actually enter the Games. For some reason, every Altomare who tried in that 25-year span to make it into the Games had something absurd happen to them that made them unable to volunteer. Tyler discovered way too late that they were lactose intolerant, for example, and ended up stuck in the bathroom for a number of hours during the volunteer competition. Maidel tripped on the edge of a mat in the gym and hit her head, giving himself a concussion. And Sivad managed to get himself stabbed with – I don't even know how this is possible – with a recorder.

Giorno continued to lead his son down the Hall of Altomares, telling him of absurdities and tragedies, until they came to one of the last pictures in the hall. "And this? This is me. There's no remarkable story to why I wasn't selected," lied Giorno; "I guess I just wasn't right."

The boy looked up at his father. It always struck the child how strange his father acted when they arrived at his photo; it was almost as if his father was hiding something, or wasn't being totally truthful. It was probably because Giorno was uncomfortable with his failure. That wasn't something about which the boy was worried. He was more prepared than anybody in One for this; he would not fail as his father, and as all his ancestors had before him.

Suddenly, Giorno grabbed his son's shoulders and turned him around so they were standing face to face. "All of these Altomares that you see here have failed; they have tried to achieve the ultimate goal of winning the Games, and haven't even been close to entering the Games. But you, Pax di Fiore Altomare, are the closest Altomare ever to reaching that goal. You can do this! You can enter and win the Games, and be the hero that generations and generations of Altomares are looking for."

That was a lot to put on anyone's shoulders, even the broad, tall shoulders of a boy like Pax. But Pax was ready to shoulder the burden.

The hopes of tens of Altomares were all resting on him. And there was no way he was going to fail them.

* * *

"The Altomares do as good of a job of shooting themselves in the foot; it's hard to justify picking people from a family where so many people have elected not to volunteer. And yes, they've had their fair share of crazy incidents, but there's a difference between getting trampled by goats and chickening out at the Reaping."

"So why are we picking one of them if their family couldn't even commit?"

"Because I've never seen anybody more committed to training than Pax. I worked with him personally for a little while before I was switched over to the Events, and that kid literally puts everything he has into training. Admittedly, it might not be the best example to set for trainees, but I feel like you have to reward him for his dedication, especially because he ranks sixth in his year."

"Are you nervous about telling him?"

"I mean, a little bit. But I feel like there's a draw to getting to compete for the honor of the district but without the risk of dying."

* * *

Today was a rough day for Pax.

Some days, her pain subsided enough for her to be able to train at full capacity, or at least at mostly full capacity, with foils and bows and other light enough but not too light weapons. But today was not one of those days. No, the pain was so bad today that Pax could barely stand. But that wasn't going to stop her from training. On days like this, Pax would sit in a chair with a blowgun or a slingshot and fire shot after shot at a target, or observe the trainees around her to find their weaknesses, or even try to push through the pain to practice hand-to-hand combat with knives, daggers, or even just her fists. Deep down in her mind, Pax knew that it would be difficult to push through her pain in the Arena, and she needed some way to gain the upper hand when she couldn't physically compete.

Today, Pax decided to practice observing. North Star was a small enough Academy that Pax pretty much knew everyone's weaknesses by this point, not to mention that some trainees in the Academy had very obvious weaknesses. So she would instead pay attention to any changes in her fellow trainees' behavior or skillset since the last time she'd paid attention to weaknesses. As she sat in the corner of the Academy, watching those around her, she couldn't help but sense… something in the air. Pax couldn't tell if it was excitement, nervousness, apprehension, or a mix of the three, but she knew, at the very least, that something big was coming.

A few moments later, Jasmine Estrella entered the room, followed by Jessamine Rogers. Everyone instantly straightened up and dropped their weapons; the Victors usually only visited North Star about a month before the Reaping to review the progress of the trainees and consider the eighteen-year-olds for the volunteer spot, but it was mostly a formality. For a Victor to be at North Star in December meant that something exciting was happening. Jasmine went over to talk to the head trainer, then the three of them came over to Pax. "Are you strong enough to walk over to my office?" asked Trainer Martinique.

Pax thought for a moment. "I don't think so."

Carefully, the trainer eased Pax into a wheelchair, then wheeled the girl through the corridors of the one-story building to the head trainer's office. The four women entered, and the door shut behind them.

"Hi, Pax. I'm Jasmine, and this is Jessamine. We're here today to inform you that you've been selected as a competitor for the Second Events!"

Pax was stunned. As Jasmine, Jessamine, and Trainer Martinique explained the situation to her, her emotions quickly gave way to a mix of sadness and anger.

This was not how things were supposed to go!

* * *

This was not how things were supposed to go. The Altomares had been training for years to get into the Games. And now, Pax, the greatest hope the Altomares had in at least a generation was going to be competing in the Events? It was a disappointment, a slap in the facet.

All of his training was for nothing.

Pax was excused from training for the rest of the day. He sulked home, not even acknowledging his family as he traipsed right into his room. A few moments later, his sister knocked at the door.

"What."

"Can I come in?"

"What do you want."

"I want to talk."

"Fine."

Bianca pushed the door open and slid into Pax's room. "I heard the news."

"How did you hear?"

"We're in the same Academy. Everybody knew within minutes. I don't understand why you're not happy about this."

"Because! I've been training for the Games for who knows how long, to bring glory and honor to our family. Now I'm stuck with these goddamn Events instead."

Bianca shook her head. "Pax. These Events are a way to bring honor and glory to our family just as much as the Games; you can go to the Capitol, compete, and win. And think about this. You're guaranteed to come back home. You don't have to die."

"Huh?"

"Think about this. After 135 Games, including multiple where more than two went in, twenty-one have come back alive. More Altomares have tried to enter the Games than people who have won. If you enter the Games, you are almost guaranteed to die. Not completely, but the odds are no more than 1 in 28 that you come out. If you go into the Events, you will live, and come home, and have a life."

Pax looked at his sister. "Huh. I never thought about the whole dying thing." He paused, a small smile of realization slowly growing on his face. "I don't have to die this way, but I can still win something for the Altomare name. Maybe it would be nice not to die. Maybe this would be better than the Games."

"No shit, Sherlock."

* * *

 **Well, it's been a minute, but I'm finally back with another chapter! A huge thanks to SinfonianLegend for sending Pax Altomare and paperairline for sending Pax Imperioli! What do you think of our Paxes? Do you like one more than the other? How will they work together? How will they react to the Events/to meeting each other?**

 **I've finally made it through a rough stretch of schoolwork, so while I don't know if I'll have another chapter up next week, I'm pretty sure the second half of the semester will be a lot calmer than the first. At least, I hope so. I'll see you all next time, whenever next time may be!**

 **-goldie031**


	18. The Pair From Thirteen

Poor Nissan was still getting used to getting called to Command. Every time he saw it on his schedule, he freaked out, running to his mother and crying that he was going to be in big trouble. After the first time, his mother made sure to remind the boy that he was, in fact, a Victor. And he was, most likely, being called to Command for something Games or Events related. Sure enough, every time Nissan was called to Command, it was to talk about the Events or the Games. But that didn't make him any less nervous the next time that Command called.

Which happened to be the case today.

Nervously, Nissan made his way to Command, knocking gingerly on the door as usual so as not to disturb the peace. "Come in!" the general called.

Trepidatiously, the boy entered the room and saluted. "Hi, General Sikka." He took a seat at the table.

"Nissan, why do you always look so nervous when you come to Command?"

"Because you're the general. And I might be in trouble."

General Sikka shook his head. "Would it be helpful if we put something like 'Events Prep' on your schedule instead? So you'll be less nervous?" Nissan nodded. "All right. I'll make sure that happens. Now, we're waiting for Soldier Stark, and then we'll get started."

At that exact moment, Aelyx Stark entered the room. The man had put on more muscle over the past year; he towered over Nissan even more than he had in the previous year, even though the boy was beginning to go through his teenage growth spurts. Aelyx gave the general and the other higher-ranking officers in the room a salute, before turning to his mentor. But before Aelyx could salute Nissan, the boy gave the man a salute instead. "You are the senior-ranking soldier."

"Come here, little dude," replied Aelyx, extending his arms to offer Nissan a hug. Nissan looked to General Sikka for permission to hug his trainee – after all, District Thirteen was a very formal district – but after a small nod, Nissan energetically ran into Aelyx's arms. In a way, Nissan and Aelyx were both each other's mentor, fostering a brotherly relationship between the two.

"All right, Soldiers, let's get down to business," instructed General Sikka. "We need to select competitors for the Events."

"Oh, that will be easy enough," shrugged Aelyx. "Everyone knows that there are no more disciplined children in Thirteen than those at St. Harriet's. We just need the top two kids from the orphanage."

* * *

 _4:00 AM: Wakeup_

It was thanks to Atticus Peregrine that everyone living in St. Harriet's Orphanage was required to sleep at least five hours a night.

Well, it wasn't _exactly_ Soldier Peregrine's fault, but he was the one that happened to be on his 26th consecutive hour awake when President Emerald came to Thirteen to survey the process of the redistricting and integration of Thirteen into Panem. Of course, she had to be taken to St. Harriet's on the tour. Thirteen's only orphanage produced by far the most disciplined soldiers, who tended to rise quickly through the ranks if they were not given the rank of officer outright upon graduation, an honor reserved for the top ten students in each class. But President Emerald happened to visit St. Harriet's on a day where the then-nine-year-old Atticus Peregrine was testing how long he could stay awake. Ruby saw the young boy's bloodshot eyes and immediately confronted those running the orphanage, trying to figure out how a child that young could look that tired. The commanding officer of his year, Lieutenant Scarborough, explained to the president how St. Harriet's point system worked. For each training activity that the wards of the orphanage completed, they received a number of points that they could exchange for things like food, showers, and sleep; it was up to the kids, of course, to decide how to use them.

The flaw in that system, or at least the one that Lt. Scarborough presented to President Emerald, was that more of the kids went for the immediate rewards – a fifteen minute break, for example, or a quick snack – than saved up for a larger payoff, like a full night's sleep or a full meal. This was not the case for Atticus. The boy not only understood the concept but took it to the extreme. The youngster would save up his points until he absolutely needed to use them, until he was too hungry or tired or smelly to keep going. But Ruby didn't need to know just how much Atticus pushed themselves; if the Capitol realized just how much danger, truly, a child could be placed in, it could mark the end of the points system, which was proven to produce the most dedicated and driven soldiers in all of Thirteen.

Fortunately, Thirteen's strategy worked; Ruby, displeased with the points system but understanding its merit, _very strongly encouraged_ Thirteen to change the points system to make sure that the kids were always exchanging points equivalent to what she considered to be an adequate amount of sleep for their age, as well as three meals a day. Well, that was at least her intention. Thirteen made the policy change, carefully recalibrating the number of points earned per day to ensure that each kid was at least earning enough to exchange for enough sleep and three meals. However, they didn't check whether those points were actually being exchanged unless a child was really pushing themselves too hard; for the most determined and disciplined children like Soldier Peregrine, it became a delicate balance of picking a few nights a month to stay awake as long as possible, to keep their overseeing lieutenants or sergeants from recognizing just how hard they were going.

On this night, though, Atticus wasn't pushing it too hard. Five hours of sleep was definitely enough on which to function.

 _4:15 AM: Breakfast_

As usual, Atticus snuck down to the vending machine in the mess hall, the only source of food for kids who wanted to eat before breakfast at 6:30. He ran his arm under the scanner first, allowing it to register the barcode on his bracelet. For kids in St. Harriet's, who operated on their own schedule, their barcode bracelets were the most important things they had. When the soldiers went to their classes or elective activities, they scanned their bracelets for attendance and grading so they could earn points. They also had to scan their bracelets when they wanted to spend points. To shower, for example, they would scan their bracelets and then receive a token, which they would use to activate the water for five minutes. Losing your bracelet was dangerous, as you couldn't earn food or showers or anything without it; a found bracelet could be a crucial bargaining chip for mountains of points from the poor boy who lost it.

Atticus stood in front of the vending machine for just a moment to review his options before choosing his breakfast: an apple, a single-serving container of peanut butter, and a protein bar, the same thing he chose every day. Sure, there were other options, but a routine was a routine; Atticus believed that the more consistent you were with your schedule, the better it was for your body.

 _4:30 AM: Morning Workout_

Atticus arrived at the gym and scanned his bracelet, recording his entry time and firing up the cameras that would record his every move; that was the only way to ensure that orphans who trained independently were fairly awarded points for their time. Then, it came time for his warm-up: five minutes of stretching, followed by crunches, push-ups, pull-ups, and a cool three miles on his treadmill. He completed it with ease, as he did every day.

Atticus was not the type of person to plan ahead too far with his workouts, choosing instead to do more or less whatever interested him at a given moment. Today, he felt like starting with stamina, especially as he was already on the treadmill. He chose one of the pre-programmed interval workouts, the most challenging one, of course, to do twice in a row. By making sure to run a little bit every day, he ensured that his stamina consistently increased; when he did his monthly stamina test on the treadmill, running for as long as he could at a fairly consistent rate, he always found that his time increased from the month before.

Once he was done, he paused and reassessed. He'd already done some time on the treadmill, so it was time to work on something a bit more focused: bench-pressing. Atticus at one point held the mark for Atticus liked to start his bench-press regimen a little bit under his max from the previous session to work himself up to his max, then try to push a little bit harder, for a few more pounds; once he was able to comfortably increase his max, he would repeat the process again. He was already pressing a solid 175, but his goal was to reach 200 by the time he aged up with the rest of the kids in his year come January.

After finishing his bench-pressing regimen, Atticus looked around the room. As usual, he hadn't really planned his work out in advance, so he didn't know what to do next. After looking around at all of the equipment, he decided to work on some calisthenics exercises. He found an exercise mat, lay it out on the floor, and began his regimen: 25 situps, 25 pushups, 25 mountain climbers, 25 squats, break, repeat, with a longer break after every five such rounds. After thirty total rounds, he was satisfied for the time being, as he usually did some calisthenics in his cooldown.

Atticus continued with his workout, working exercise to exercise as he always did. He knew that some people preferred to plan out their whole workouts, but Atticus preferred to choose what he did every day depending on how he was feeling. He believed that when he gave himself smaller, doable tasks, with little rewards such as a break, a snack, or a drink of water after each, he would be more productive than if he tried to accomplish one larger task. He knew that to journey a thousand miles, he just needed to start with a single step, then another, then another.

 _6:00 AM: Navigation_

While Atticus preferred to think in smaller units, he was at least cognizant of time; as he did every day, he finished his cooldown just as the alarms went off throughout the orphanage indicating that it was time to wake up. The rest of the soldiers had just half an hour to get ready before they were required to be at breakfast, during which most of the trainees needed to shower, so as to be perfectly clean before Morning Lineup at 7:00. As Atticus had already eaten breakfast, which Lt. Scarborough could see by checking his purchase history on his bracelet, he could use the half-hour before breakfast time to do something he enjoyed, as a reward for doing so well during his morning workout. Atticus took some time to clean the equipment, making sure that the room was in better shape than when he started working out, both because it was the right thing to do and because that would earn him even more points, then wove his way through the crowds of children clamoring for the showers until he arrived at the navigation station, one of his favorite training stations. Atticus greatly enjoyed getting to spend time outside in the open air, but he also enjoyed the logic puzzle that navigation effectively was; using just his intellect, Atticus could be dropped in the middle of any forest and figure out how to get around, or even get back to civilization! It was just incredible.

Because Atticus enjoyed navigation so much, he was careful to monitor the amount of time he spent out on the navigation trail, both cause he didn't want to get too good at navigating that particular area, defeating the purpose of practicing, and because he wanted to make sure that he never got tired of enjoying navigation; if Atticus got tired of navigation, it wouldn't be that good of an incentive for finishing tasks. So, after fifteen minutes out on the trail, Atticus returned to St. Harriet's to shower and get into his uniform for Morning Lineup, just as he did every day.

Some people might get bored by having the same routine every day, but not Atticus. He hadn't dropped from the number one slot in his age group since he started following it. Nothing would make him break from that routine.

* * *

General Sikka thought for a moment. "If this was the Games, I would say, without a doubt, that we should send the top two from St. Harriet's. But something tells me that that might not be the best idea for the Events."

"But those two best represent discipline! Not to mention that they represent the best that Thirteen has to offer, and the thing that we value the most: being good, disciplined soldiers."

"Yes, and we're showing that off for a lot of the Events. I've already managed to work with Ruby to shave off as much of the frill from the Events as we can, but I don't think she'd be particularly happy if we sent in two soldiers after we drew two soldiers last year."

"But we can't not send in any," protested Aelyx.

"I agree. So, we'll choose one kid from St. Harriet's to be our first competitor. Aelyx, you can even pick which one you want and be their mentor. But we need to choose someone else for the second option. Do either of you have any ideas? We need someone who is particularly disciplined in what they do."

Aelyx shrugged. "Are there any kids in Thirteen who aren't soldiers? I don't think so."

Suddenly, Nissan perked up. "I have an idea! I know someone who is disciplined at what they do and who lives in Thirteen!"

"Well," General Sikka smiled, "let's hear it."

* * *

 _ **My First Video!**_

 _Views: 206,951_

~.~.

"Hi everybody! My name is Atticus Otterson, and welcome to my VloggeVision channel! I'm fifteen years old, I live in District Thirteen, and I'm so excited to begin this journey! On this channel, I want to show you my life. My real life. My family, my friends, who I really am. Or at least, everything I'm allowed to share without sharing something confidential. And when I commit to something, I don't give up on it, so you bet I'm going to put everything I have into this channel. I don't know what it's going to look like or what I'm going to do with this, but you bet it's gonna be great! So stay tuned, and come on this journey with me. So be an Otter, drink some water, and I'll see you next time."

Not much else rhymed with otter.

~.~.

 _ **Meet My Family!**_

 _Views: 30,963_

~.~.

"Hi everyone, and welcome back to AtticusOtter! Today, I'm going to introduce you to my family! I live here in Thirteen with my parents, two siblings, and this adorable puppy, and I'm going to introduce you to everybody! Let's get started!"

"Up first is my mom, Thea." Atticus, holding his camera, jumped into his mom's field of vision and accosting her with questions. "Hi, Thea!"

"Atticus, what is this?"

"It's my VloggeVision channel, AtticusOtter!"

"VloggeVision?"

"It's like, where people can post videos about their life or whatever."

"Why?"

"Imrie suggested it. I'm introducing my followers to my family!"

"How many followers do you have?"

"Eight."

Thea smiled and shook her head. "OK, dear. What do you want to know about me?"

"Well, what do you do?"

"I work in the administration for the military, mostly running local, government-type operations. Thirteen runs a bit differently from other districts because we're a military district, but we still have to have our own form of government, even if it is run through the military."

"That's awesome! Can you tell me anything about what you do?"

"Nope. Definitely not something that goes on the internet."

"It was worth a shot. And what's a fun fact about yourself?"

"For a long time, I thought my name was Tea, like the drink, because my parents pronounced my name like Tee-a, not Thea."

"Cool! That's my mom, everyone! Say bye!"

"Goodbye."

"Now, let's see if we can find my dad, Ronan." Atticus raced through the corridors of Thirteen's underground labyrinth until he got to the door of his father's office and burst through it. "Dad! There you are!"

"Oh, hi, Atticus! What's up?"

"I'm making the first video for my VloggeVision channel! Well, really my second, but the first real one. And it's a meet the family! So, meet my followers!"

In the patronizing way that only a father who is trying his hardest to support their son's new and probably futile passion can, Ronan said, "Hi, Atticus's followers!"

"Tell them about what you do!"

"Well, I work for the school board here in Thirteen, helping to review the curriculum and make sure that the teachers in the schools are up to standards. We're working on some big things, and soon we're going to be lobbying the national government for something very exciting."

"Can you talk about it?"

"Not yet. We want it to be officially official first."

"OK, then. Tell me a fun fact about yourself."

"My favorite thing is sitting in classes when I screen teachers. I love learning!"

"Awesome! Thanks, Dad! Now, off to find my siblings!" Atticus ran out of his father's office, not bothering to close the door, and ran back to his living space. "Well, only my younger sister, Imrie. Renna, my big sister, is studying nursing, so she lives in another compartment now; that's what we call living spaces here in Thirteen. But Imrie over here still lives with us! She was the one who encouraged me to start this channel. Hi, Imrie!"

"Hey, Atty!"

"Don't call me that," hissed Atticus. "I'm a person on the internet now. I need to be a professional."

"Fine," hissed Imrie back. "Hey, Atticus!"

"How are you?"

"I'm doing well! What are you working on?"

"My meet the family video! Wanna say hi?"

"Hi, everybody! I'm Imrie!"

"How old are you?"

"Twelve."

"And what do you like to do?"

"Well, I'm not really sure. I'm still trying to figure stuff out in life."

"And yet, you keep on borrowing my camera to take photos with. Maybe that's something you want?"

Imrie began to squirm a little bit. "Maybe? I don't know."

"Tell us a fun fact about yourself."

"I was the first person in my class to know what VloggeVision was!"

"That's a cool fact! Thanks, Imrie! And that's my whole family!

"I hope you enjoyed this video where I introduced you to my family. Next time, we'll meet my friends! So be an Otter, drink some water, and I'll see you all next time!"

As Atticus watched that video back, he realized that he had to learn how to edit his videos.

~.~.

 _ **Meet My Friends!**_

 _Views: 15,074_

~.~.

"Hi everyone, and welcome back to AtticusOtter! Today, we're gonna meet two of my friends! I have some others, but you'll meet them over time.

"First, meet my closest friend, Dylan! Hi, Dylan!"

"Hey, Atticus! Thanks for having me!"

"Thank you for being here. Tell us a little bit about yourself."

"Atticus and I used to be in the same year, but when Thirteen became Reaping-eligible and our years had to be standardized with the Districts', I moved up a year; we stayed friends, though we have very different interests. I'm interested in maybe becoming a doctor someday, but I still have some time to decide."

"And tell us a fun fact about yourself!"

"Um, well… I once beat the record for fastest time to finish physics homework! Not exactly… intentionally, but it happened."

"That's quite the achievement."

"Not a record I'd like to hold, but that's what happened."

"Well, thanks for being here, Dylan! Catch ya in school?"

"Yeah."

"Next up is my other friend, Tyler! We're not as close as I am with Dylan, but I think what Tyler has to share with the world is very important. Hi, Tyler!"

"Hi, Atticus! Thanks for having me on today!"

"So, I wanted to give you the opportunity to talk a little bit about yourself and your story, because I think there are many kids out here who could benefit from hearing it. I know it's hard sometimes to talk about your coming out story, but children need good role models like you."

"Thank you, Atticus." Tyler whispered into their friend's ear, "How many subs do you have?"

"Like, twelve."

"OK good." Tyler turned back to the camera.

"So, tell them a bit about yourself."

"Well, my name is Tyler, I'm also fifteen, and I'm non-binary. Atticus wanted me to tell the story about how I came out. I was assigned female at birth…"

~.~.

 _ **I Have a Boyfriend (Coming Out)**_

 _Views: 3,956,541_

~.~.

"Hi everyone, and welcome back to AtticusOtter! Today's video is a bit different from some of the stuff I've posted in the past. I know there aren't many people subscribed to my channel, but I want to be as open as possible with you; I think that's really important. So, here goes.

"I'm gay.

"I've known that I was gay since I was eleven or so, when I started to explore the question of my sexuality. It wasn't until I was fourteen that I came out to people; even though I had a label, I wanted to wait until I was sure. And I wanted to wait to come out publicly until I was really, really sure. And now I am really really sure, because, for the first time, I have a boyfriend.

"His name is Wade, and he's in my year at school. We started dating a few weeks ago, and we're very happy together.

"There's not much more to say; I don't think is should be a big deal to come out, so I'm going to keep this short and sweet. Be an Otter, drink some water, and I'll see you next time."

Little did Atticus know that his coming out video would go viral.

~.~.

 _ **The Boyfriend Tag**_

 _Views: 4,895,041_

~.~.

"Hi everyone, and welcome back to AtticusOtter! I'm so overwhelmed by the love and support that my channel has gotten since I came out. I never expected that 750,000 of you would become Otters with me, but I'm very glad to share my story with you, and I hope that it is helpful for you in your personal life to know that someone is going through similar things to you.

"Today, I'm here with Wade, my boyfriend, again. You guys really seem to like when we do videos together! Tons of you have requested that we do the boyfriend tag, so that's what we're gonna do today! I asked you to comment on last week's video with any questions you had for us, so we'll just hop right into the questions!

"The first question is, how did you meet? I guess I'll start?"

"Sure," Wade replied.

"We met while we were playing in the… how do you explain it?"

"Thirteen considers any building that isn't absolutely necessary, like any form of recreational center, to be a waste of space. Instead, they chose to invest in Virtual Reality headsets because they didn't take up much space or any extra resources. So we were each using a VR headset when we very literally bumped into each other."

"We kind of smiled at each other and then went our separate ways, but then when I returned my headset, it turned out that Wade was responsible for managing the storage of the headsets. We talked a little bit, we apologized, and then we exchanged numbers.

"The next question is, what did you do on your first date? We didn't really have a first date, did we?"

"No, not really. The closest thing in Thirteen to a date is, like, sitting at the same table at lunch. So we sat at the same table at lunch for a few days, until we decided to spend some of our free time together. That was a big next step in our relationship, but even aboveground, we didn't go on any, like, romantic dates. It was more about spending time together. And we've enjoyed spending time together very much."

"I couldn't have said it better. Next question. Have you had your first kiss? What happened?"

"Oh," blushed Wade. "That's a bit of a long story…"

~.~.

 **We Broke Up**

 _Views: 1,035,674_

~.~.

"Hello everyone, and welcome back to AtticusOtter. I'm here again with Wade, and we just wanted to film a quick update video to let you know that we broke up. It's really not a big deal – the relationship wasn't working as a romantic or sexual thing, and we both think that we'll be much happier just being friends."

Wade nodded. "I want to emphasize that we're not breaking up out of bad blood, or because anyone did anything, and there are no hard feelings between us. We just both think we're better as friends than as boyfriends."

"Exactly. You'll still see Wade on the channel with my other friends, we're definitely still gonna hang out, and we're going to support each other's romantic endeavors. We're just… not going to be in love anymore. This is the decision that's the most right for both of us, and we're both… well, I don't know if happy is the right word. Content. That's the word.

"And that's about it for this update video. Wade, do you want to close it out?"

"Sure. Be an Otter, drink some water, and he'll see you next time."

* * *

"I watch this channel on VloggeVision in my spare time called AtticusOtter," Nissan explained. "Atticus Otterson, who runs the channel, has not missed a day since he started! If that's not disciplined, I don't know what."

"And he lives in Thirteen?" asked General Sikka.

"Yep!"

"So how have I not heard of him?"

"Because adults think VloggeVision is stupid and they don't watch it," Nissan replied matter-of-factly.

"I want to screen him with you first, but that sounds like a good solution! Now we just need to figure out who the top soldier at St. Harriet's is, and then we can tell them both. Good work, boys."

* * *

"Attention!" called Lieutenant Scarborough. Instantly, Atticus Peregrine and everyone else in his company sprang to attention, feet pressed tightly together and arms stick-straight at their sides. Of all the commanding officers at St. Harriet's, Lieutenant Scarborough was by far the strictest, as all of the soldiers whom he oversaw were more than aware. He was notorious for taking away points for any reason that he could think of. For the kids in Atticus's company, all born in the same year, losing points was slowly becoming a bigger and bigger deal. In three years' time, the ten soldiers in their company who had the highest lifetime point total would be promoted straight to officer upon graduating at age eighteen. While Atticus had held the number one slot for as long as they'd been ranked, everyone else was still vying for numbers two through ten; losing two points now because of an imperfect crease might mean the difference between entering the army as a private and entering as an officer.

Lieutenant Scarborough walked down the rows and columns of his soldiers, indiscriminately taking off points from whoever he could. When he arrived at Atticus, he couldn't find anything to dock the boy for, much to his chagrin. "Stay after for a moment. I need to speak to you."

That did not bode well for Atticus. But the boy did his best to hold himself together; if he broke at all, Lt. Scarborough would definitely take off points, and Atticus didn't want that. He hadn't lost points at Lineup in almost three months, and today was not going to be the day he broke that streak.

Once Lieutenant Scarborough had finish scanning the rows of all of his soldiers, he stood in front of them and addressed his corps. "All right, soldiers. In a moment, you will be dismissed for the day. As usual, your rankings are on the screen over to our left. I will see you for evening lineup tonight. At ease and get out of my sight." All of the other soldiers filed out, leaving Atticus as the only one standing in front of him. "Soldier Peregrine. I am pleased to deliver you the news that you have been selected as one of the competitors for the upcoming Events. The news will be made official in the coming weeks, but General Sikka will soon be in touch regarding how you should prepare. We hope that you will represent both St. Harriet's and District Thirteen well."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Scarborough. I am proud to represent my district."

* * *

 _ **HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT! (Not Clickbait!)**_

 _Views: 600,925_

~.~.

"Hi everyone, and welcome back to AtticusOtter! Today I have some big, big news for you: I have been picked to represent my home district of Thirteen in the Second Inter-District, Inter-Disciplinary Events! This is obviously a very big deal, and I'm super stoked to represent my district proudly in front of all of Panem!

"Now, I don't know yet what I'm going to be able to do with this channel while I'm at the Events. I'm obviously bringing my vlogging camera with me so I'll try to document as much of the experience as I can, but I don't know if I'll be able to upload those immediately.

"But, don't you fret! I have stockpiled six weeks' worth of content to cover the time of the Events! I'm teaching my younger sister how to upload to my channel; she's going to be uploading every other day so that we can stretch things out for as long as we possibly can, as nobody has told us how long the Events are going to go. If I come back early, we'll get some double uploads as a reward for all of you for your patience, and hopefully, I'll have some awesome Events vlogs for you!

"While I'm sad that I may have to have to break my three-year upload streak, I'm unbelievably excited for this new adventure! As much as I can, you'll be with me the whole way. So be an otter, drink some water, and I'll see y'all next time!"

Atticus pressed the power button on his camera and took a deep breath. His whole… everything was built around AtticusOtter; if he couldn't hold onto his subscribers while he was in the Events, what was he going to do?

* * *

 **Well, it's been a minute since I uploaded. But, I'm back! And hopefully with some more consistent uploads for this next month between my semester ending and me going away for the summer. I'm gonna get through this story one way or another, trust me!**

 **First off, a huge thank you to TheMayflyProject for submitting Atticus Peregrine, and to Mystical Pine Forest for submitting Atticus Otterson! What do you think of our Attici? Do you like one better than the other? Who will do better when their routine gets all screwed up by the Events? Are they good representations of discipline?**

 **Secondly, due to unforeseen circumstances, I'm going to be reopening one of the D11 slots. The form is now up on my profile; it will remain open for two weeks, so until June 2, at which point I will close the form and choose from the available submissions. Each person will be able to submit one competitor, so long as you have fewer than two competitors in the story so far. I will notify submitters by PM of my decision by Monday night.**

 **And thirdly, update schedule! My current plan is to upload about every other week, depending on how many chapters I stockpile and all that. So, barring things going haywire, I'll see you in two weeks, if not sooner!**

 **Thanks so much for your patience!**

 **Goldie031**


	19. The Pair from The Capitol

"I take it we're not going to get much help with picking competitors from Lavinia," Lyric said as she and Silas left Cloud's Composers and headed to their house.

"Well, of course not," Silas replied. "She can't even mentor for the Events. The question is how much we're going to be able to do things on our own and how much Henderson will have to be involved."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I think the two of us are fully capable of choosing competitors and being mentors on our own. We know what President Emerald wants, and we've got more experience at the Events than Henderson anyway. The two of us are more than capable of doing this."

"But isn't mentoring very different from being in the Events?"

"Maybe, but I'm fully convinced that we're capable of doing this. Especially so that Henderson can have a break. Being Lavinia's husband is hard enough."

"That's true," Lyric mused. "I trust you, Silas. I guess if you say we can do it, we can do it."

"That's the spirit!" exclaimed Silas, much more energetically than his compatriot. "Now, the first thing we need to do is choose how to choose competitors, so Ruby can approve them and so we can start coming up with a strategy."

"Two competitors who represent leadership, right?"

"Yes."

Lyric thought for a moment. "That feels really vague to me. Like, there are so many ways that people can be leaders! How can we determine who the two best leaders in the Capitol are? That's a big task."

"Well, we can't necessarily choose the two best ones because it is subjective, and I think Ruby's wording is a bit misleading, because she's implying that there is a way to choose the two best leaders. The best we can do is choose two kids who are good exemplars of the value of leadership."

"But there are still hundreds of kids who are good exemplars of the value of leadership. Many kids are leaders in big ways, like as leaders of clubs or organizations, but there are also kids who are leaders in small ways, like by helping their friends who are having a bad day, or by standing up to a bully. We need a way to narrow it down."

"I suppose you're right," they said. Silas thought for a moment as the two reached the door to Silas's house. "Here's an idea. What if we each searched for a leader who leads in a field connected to us? Like, you're clearly passionate about, or at least involved with, the arts. Pick a leader in some form of artistic field or something. I'll pick someone who is a leader that in some way works to make Panem, or even just their friend group, a better place."

"But that's still so random. And it's not fair to the kids who don't fit into either of those categories."

"So what do you propose, Lyric?" Silas asked, attempting to stay calm.

"Hmm. How about we put out applications and review them? Like, have the candidate apply and then say they have to provide references, whether from friends or coworkers or something."

"I like that idea," smiled Silas. "I think it's the fairest possible option. Plus, it'll give the candidates for competitor a chance to show us why they consider themselves a leader."

"And I also think that just applying to be a competitor takes leadership, don't you?"

* * *

As usual, Mettius arrived at school on the early side. Ey enjoyed spending time with eir friends, and ey knew that eir friends were also the kind of people who enjoyed spending time with their friends. The best way to make sure that they all spent time together was for everyone to get to school early, as they all had work or extracurriculars after school.

Giving a nod to the security guard as ey passed through the doors, Mettius carefully wove eir way through the halls to make eir way to eir locker, taking care not to bump into anybody or trip over anything. While there was a rule that no cell phones were to be used in the halls, so as to prevent any unfortunate accidents, the reality of teenagers was that most people did not listen; Mettius took it upon emself to do eir part to prevent accidents. It was a small way that ey could make the school a better place.

Arriving at eir locker, Mettius unpacked eir bag and organized eir schoolbooks, making sure that ey knew where everything ey needed for the day was. Placing eir materials for eir first class in eir bag, Mettius closed eir locker and began to make eir way around the hall to where eir friends' lockers were. The lockers in each grade level were organized alphabetically; because Summers and Sprout were close to each other alphabetically while Dunebreaker was pretty far away, Mettius usually met eir friends by their lockers rather than make them both come to eirs.

After navigating through the hallways, Mettius arrived at eir friends' lockers. Camilla, one of eir first friends, was already at her locker. Mettius tapped her on one shoulder, then jumped over to her other side so that she had to hunt for him. Once she found him, Camilla gave him a look akin to what a child would give their father. "Mettius, why do you always do this?"

"I like teasing you," replied Mettius, grinning impishly. "What are you up to?"

"I'm debating whether or not to rotate the artwork in my locker."

"Didn't you just rotate it?"

"A couple of weeks ago," admitted Camilla sheepishly. "There's just so much good artwork in the world that I don't like to recognize what I see, you know? Like, it's so much better to notice little things in the pieces every time I open my locker, and it's so much easier to do that when I rotate the artwork."

Mettius shrugged. "If that works for you, I guess that's cool. But wouldn't it be easier to put a tablet in your locker? That way you could rotate the artwork without printing it out. And the colors would probably be nicer, too."

"Huh. That's a good idea."

"Thank you. I try."

As Mettius and Camilla conversed, the third member of their friend group, Mordecai Summers, arrived at their locker. As soon as Mettius noticed Mordecai, ey gave the other teen a wave. "Hi, Mordecai!"

"Hey, Mettius!" Ever affectionate, Mordecai approached their friend and gave em a hug. "How are you?"

"Good. How are you?"

"Good now that I'm with you." Mordecai smiled their trademark wide goofy smile.

Mettius blushed. Mordecai was a naturally affectionate and sweet person, with a tendency to say exactly the right thing to make one feel fantastic; in other words, Mordecai was not treating Mettius any differently than they treated anyone else. But Mettius hung onto every word that Mordecai said. Ey had a pretty big crush on Mordecai that ey wasn't really sure what to do with; while ey wanted to date them, ey also didn't want to lose their friendship. Maybe someday, ey would figure it out, but for now, Mettius preferred to push thoughts of dating Mordecai to the back of eir mind. But sometimes, Mettius couldn't help it. Ey saw in eir mind's eye em and Mordecai going to a park in the Capitol together, just being together in the sun, or perhaps going to see the Emerald Ballet Ensemble, so named, obviously, for Elizah's enthusiastic patronage of the troupe, or cooking a lovely dinner together in Mettius's home, or…

Mettius felt a tap on eir shoulder. "Earth to Mettius. We have to get to class!" Ey looked up and noticed that the lights in the hallway had turned green, an indicator that the students had five minutes to get to their first period class. Mettius nodded, then followed his friends to their history class. It was time to start the day.

~.~.

"All right, class, settle down!" Mr. Juernes flicked the lights in the classroom on and off, to capture the attention of the students. Slowly, they all took their seats and turned to face their teacher. "Good morning, everybody. As you know, we're coming to the end of our unit on the Ancient Greeks, which means it's time for another group project!" Mr. Juernes's announcement was met with a smattering of groans. "Oh, come on. Group projects aren't really that bad. Here, let me pass out the rubric for you, and because I know some of you will, why don't you complain about how not everyone pulls their weight after you read it." With a twinkle in his eye, Mr. Juernes deftly wove between the desks, carefully placing a piece of paper on each student's desk and tapping their shoulders as he did so.

Mettius quickly scanned over the assignment. Ey was actually a big fan of group projects; Mettius enjoyed working in a team to achieve a goal, though ey also sometimes had a tendency to be a bit frustrated with those who didn't have eir work ethic. It seemed as though this assignment was fairly balanced; it had both group components and in-class individual components based on the out-of-class group work. How important those individual components would be for Mettius's grade would depend significantly on who ey were paired with.

Once everyone had finished reading the assignment, Mr. Juernes continued, "Now, you know normally I assign you to groups. But for this assignment, I'm willing to let you all choose your groups. You may work in twos or threes, but remember that the requirements are slightly different for groups of three to compensate for having one more person. You have five minutes to assemble into groups; when the lights flicker, your time is up, and I'll record the groups. Go for it."

Instantly, Mettius turned to Camilla and Mordecai, sharing a knowing look with the other two. Camilla and Mettius had actually met while working on a group project, and as they worked together quite well, which all of their teachers seemed to know, they preferred to pair themselves together whenever possible. And when they could work as a threesome, they, of course, included Mordecai.

Mettius wouldn't have it any other way.

Settled in their group, the three friends turned to watch the rest of the class form their groups, an event that many a Capitol child referred to as The Hunger Games: Classroom Edition. Sure enough, it was chaos, as other children their age ran around, trying to form themselves into groups. But Mettius found emself not focusing on the chaos surrounding em; rather, they were focused on one student, Ashton Collins. She was the only student in Mettius's year not from the Capitol; rather, she'd been specially sent to eir school a few weeks prior from Twelve. Being from the outermost of outer districts, Ashton was evidently struggling to fit in, both because she was shy and often felt out of place in the wealth and luxury of the Capitol, and because many of the other students, all of whom were Capitol-born, looked down on her. (Of course, her name, which might as well have been Twelvie McTwelverson, didn't help matters.) Mettius had tried to help Ashton a few times, but she wasn't generally receptive to em; ey figured that perhaps she was more of an introvert and that her social isolation was self-imposed rather than imposed by her classmates. That was clearly not the case; Mettius watched as the rest of Ashton's classmates completely ignored her. Dejected, the girl returned to her seat in the back corner of the classroom.

Mettius had to do something.

Catching Camilla's eye and giving her a slight nod, Mettius stood up and made his way to Ashton's seat, then sat down next to her, tapping her on the shoulder. "Hi, Ashton."

Ashton looked up at Mettius. "Oh. Hi."

"Do you have a group for the project yet?"

"No."

"Can I be your partner, then?"

Ashton's face brightened a hair. "Really? You... with me?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

At that moment, the lights flickered, and everyone returned to their seats. The students were surprised to see Mrs. Cheresh, the school's headmaster, standing next to Mr. Juernes. They swiftly took their seats, so as to respect Mrs. Cheresh's time.

"Good morning, students."

"Good morning, Mrs. Cheresh."

"I hope you all have been having a good day so far. I come bearing some valuable news regarding the selection of competitors for the upcoming Events. This year, our mentors will be accepting applications for our… for the two competitors representing the Capitol and our district value of leadership. Mr. Juernes will pass out the applications at the end of class today, and they've asked that the applications be returned two weeks from today; in addition to your applications, you're being asked to provide exactly two references who can attest to your leadership abilities. Please reach out to me with any questions you may have; I believe that each and every one of you would be a fantastic representative of our district, and I'd be more than happy to serve as one of your references. Thank you for your time and be good scholars!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Cheresh," concluded Mr. Juernes as she handed him a thick stack of papers. As Mrs. Cheresh left, Mordecai turned to Mettius. "You should apply!"

"Really? I don't know if I'm that kind of big leader that they're looking for. I don't like the spotlight."

"But not every leader is leading a big club or organization. Sometimes leaders are great leaders because they're good at including people, or making sure that everybody feels like they belong."

"Do you really think I should?" blushed Mettius.

"Yes, I really do," replied Mordecai.

* * *

Titania stood on her pedestal and took a deep breath. She had done this a million times before, but every time, she felt the same butterflies in her stomach. If something went wrong, Titania could be seriously injured, a fear with which Titania was forced to grapple every day. But this was her livelihood, and her love, and so she had no choice but to look fear in the eye and conquer it.

Carefully, Titania stepped into the plexiglass box placed in front of her, then folded her body like a sheet of paper to fit all six feet of it inside, cheekily closing the lid with her feet. Most people would not consider contortionism to be a dangerous endeavor, at least in its most basic form, before you added in shooting arrows with your feet, or lighting things on fire, or anything of the sort. Titania, however, had one particular fear when it came to contortion. It wasn't claustrophobia, though that was the fear most directly associated with the art form; no, Titania was scared of breaking a bone, partly because it might be embarrassing, but mostly because it might render her unable to effectively lead the rest of the troupe.

It was thanks to Titania that there even was a circus troupe for her and the other orphans in it. She had been placed in the foster care system at a very young age, so young that she didn't remember any form of home life or family. After bouncing around the foster care system for around a decade, Titania was done; she ran away, finding herself a home among other teens on the streets who had lost faith in the foster system just as she did. The group of children earned money through performing on the streets, each honing some sort of circus-type trade; Titania turned out to be good at contortionism, for example, and one of her closest friends, Lito Oberon, was notably skilled at magic. Within just two years, they had drawn the attention of a number of older performers; Titania had the brilliant idea to form a troupe, creating a sustainable enterprise by enabling the older and more experienced performers to pass their knowledge on to the younger members, and also to formally publicize their shows and attract a true audience. Thus far, the troupe had been an immensely successful enterprise, one which many of Titania's peers attributed to her leadership. And Titania was careful to make sure that any child – ideally, though not exclusively, those without families – who wanted to join the troupe had a place within it. She knew just how life-changing having a support system was for her; the least she could do for others was return the favor.

After staying in the box for a moment or two, to help her body remember the position, Titania reached her arm through one of the holes to grab an apple, one of the little tricks she did when she performed her routine. This time, instead of grabbing an apple, she grabbed the head of a child. "Oh!" she exclaimed, jumping up a little bit, her head pushing against the top of the box.

"Hi Titania!" piped Bella, the youngest member of the troupe, who was learning contortion from Titania.

Titania rubbed her head. "Hi there, Bella. You scared me."

"Oops. I was just wondering when you could help me practice my tricks! You say it's important to practice every day."

"And that it is. Can you give me five minutes?"

"Sure!" But Bella didn't leave; rather, she watched as Titania got out of the box and did some other contortion and stretching exercises just to make sure that she could still pull both of her legs over her head from any position. Then, she turned to her young ward and gave the girl a big smile. "Ready?"

"Yep!"

"Let's start by stretching. It's always good to keep your body flexible, especially when we're doing all of this wacky stuff with our bodies. I'm going to teach you a routine that you should do every morning when you wake up, and every night before you go to sleep. This will keep your limbs limber!" Slowly, Titania showed Bella a routine that would stretch all of her muscles from neck to ankle. Once both girls were loose, it was time to actually start contorting.

"Why don't we begin with the most recognizable thing a contortionist can try to do: fit their whole body in a box!" Titania placed her hand on the box she'd just squished herself into. "Why don't you try to fit into this one?"

Eagerly, Bella hopped into the box, curled herself up into a little ball, and, reaching her arm through one of the holes on the side, shut the lid. "That was easy. How is that difficult?"

Titania smiled. "Ah, it's because you're much smaller than I am. I guess we'll need to build you a smaller box for this trick to work. Well, no matter. Climb out."

"OK!" Bella pushed the lid up and popped out of the box. "Now what?"

"Let's work on your back flexibility. Have you ever done a backbend before?"

After about an hour with Bella, the two had to clear out of the ring for Fire Call and Lift Call, so that the fire-breathers and the aerialists could practice their most challenging stunts before the evening's performance. As a leader, if not the leader, of the troupe, Titania's biggest concern was safety; the way to best ensure safety in every performance was to practice beforehand so that everyone involved in the most dangerous things the troupe did knew exactly what was happening during each stunt, as well as what to do if something went wrong. While each department of the troupe had a leader who supervised their individual calls, Titania sat in the audience to supervise the entire process, just in case.

As Titania watched Nadine and Austin Spiegel practice their aerial routine for the evening's performance, supervised by another aerialist named Dorsey, she noticed her friend, Lito, working his way through the seats in the tent to sit next to her. "Hey, Lito!"

"Hi, Titania! How is prep for the show going?"

"Things seem to be going well," Titania replied. "I always love watching Nadine and Austin work; they have such a lovely quality of movement."

"Are they higher up on the silks than usual?"

Titania scrutinized the twins for a moment. "I think a little bit, considering that Dorsey is spotting much closer than normal, but I can't quite tell. I don't do much of any work with the aerialists." Titania turned to face Lito. "You rarely even arrive more than twenty minutes before the show, much less come to Calls. I very much appreciate your company, but why are you here?"

A little smirk crossed Lito's face. "Well, I was made aware of a very exciting opportunity that I wanted to tell you about. Silas and Lyric, who are the mentors for the Events this year, opened up applications to be a competitor." Lito handed Titania a flyer. "They're looking for people who exemplify the value of leadership. And I don't think there's anyone who better exemplifies this value than you! Check it out.

Titania skimmed the piece of paper. "If I do this, I would need to leave the troupe behind for, like, a month. At least."

Lito nodded. "I know. But I think there are enough of us to manage without you. You don't perform all that much anymore, so we wouldn't need to change the set, other than having someone else introduce us." That was true; while Titania enjoyed performing, ever since the formal establishment of the troupe and their opening performance, she would usually just introduce the troupe and then yield the spotlight to the other performers. "And you've established such a good leadership structure that each performer knows who to report to in every situation, and nobody is even really reporting to you directly. I know it'll be hard for you to leave our troupe, but I really think we can do without you for as long as the Events take."

Titania carefully read the flyer again. "You really think I should do this?"

"I really do," smiled Lito.

Titania thought for a moment. If there was one person in the troupe whom she most trusted, it was Lito. He was the one in whom Titania confided when she began to question her identity and the one whom she told when she finally figured out that she was trans. Through it all, Lito kept her secret, until Titania was ready to share her identity with the troupe. Titania trusted Lito not to mislead her; if he really believed that she should apply, then maybe this was something to give thought to. Sure, she didn't really want to leave her troupe. But everyone in the Capitol was going to apply, mostly for the chance of the platform that the Events provided. What were the odds that she would actually get picked?

* * *

"Well, it seemed as though your idea to put out applications worked, Lyric."

"Maybe a little too well," admitted Lyric, staring at the stack of papers placed in front of her and Silas that seemed to tower higher than imaginable. "How do you think we should go through them?"

"Well, Henderson said he would help us. I think we should find a control case, like one person whom we believe is at least a fairly good candidate to be a competitor. Then, we just compare everyone else to that person."

"That works for me, but perhaps we should have two control cases so that we don't end up not having a pair by the end of it," Lyric suggested.

"Well, we can take that one step further. What if we divide the stack in half and each find our own control case from our stack, and then pick one competitor from our stack. Then we can get through this twice as fast."

"That's an even better idea. Let's go with it!"

Even splitting the stack in half, it took Lyric and Silas more than two days to get through all of the applications, both because there were a lot of them and because, in order to give each application its due, they took a lot of breaks. Finally, once each had finished their stack, they came together to present their top few options to each other. It took them almost another full day to finally come to a consensus because they had so many worthy applicants. By the end of the process, both Silas and Lyric were exhausted, but quite happy with their choices.

"The funny thing is," Silas remarked as they cleaned up the room, "if you think about it, each of is kind of a leader in a field connected to us."

Lyric thought about it for a moment. "You know, I do believe you're right."

* * *

After school, Mettius said goodbye to eir friends and walked home, which was, fortunately, not far from school; in fact, it was so close that ey didn't even need to cross a street to get back, which ey wondered if it was an intentional decision on eir fathers' part. When ey got home, ey carefully unlocked the door and entered the house, closing the door behind em and enabling the alarm. Then, ey walked into the kitchen, where ey found Tiberias, one of eir fathers, holding a golden envelope. "You're home from work early today."

"I wanted to make something nice for dinner. This came for you today, Mettius."

"Really?" Mettius took the envelope from eir father. "I wonder who it's from."

"My guess is the local government. Open it so we can see."

Carefully, Mettius opened the envelope and took out the letter to read. Ey looked up at his father in amazement. "I was selected as a competitor for the Events."

"Really? That's great!" Tiberias dried off his hands and gave Mettius a big hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks."

"You seem less than enthused."

"It's just such a big platform," shrugged Mettius. "I didn't think about how big the spotlight would be when I applied. I only did it because Mordecai thought I should."

"Well, I think you're the perfect person to be a competitor. No matter what happens, you're going to make us very proud. You already have by being picked!"

Mettius attempted to smile, but ey were pretty sure that it was not convincing. Ey could only hope that ey wouldn't disappoint eir parents.

* * *

"Good evening, everybody!" Titania announced to the audience in the tent. "Welcome, one and all, young and old, to Cirque du Pupilla! We are so delighted that you have taken time out of your night to join us, and you will not leave disappointed, I promise you that! You will see acrobatic feats, moments of daring and danger, moments that will make you laugh, make you cry, and leave you breathless! Just make sure to hold on to your hats!" Gracefully, Titania lifted her leg up behind her head, clutched the brim of her top hat in her toes, and lifted it up, earning the audience's impressed applause. "So sit back, relax, and enjoy, Cirque du Pupilla!"

Titania made a grand gesture, switching the audience's attention to the center ring for the opening act, Nadine and Austin; once everyone was distracted, so to speak, she slipped backstage into her dressing room. With the show underway, everyone knew exactly where and what they needed to do, so Titania, who was done until the finale, had no need to wait in the wings, micromanaging those who certainly did not need micromanaging.

When she arrived in her dressing room, she found a sparkly gold envelope propped up on the mirror waiting for her. A bit confused, she carefully took the envelope in her hand and opened it, slid out the letter, and placed the very pretty envelope on her station. Then, she opened the letter. Titania read it, then read it again, and read it one more time. She could barely believe what she was reading.

For her to have been picked, the troupe must have made a tremendous impression, not just on her references but for the people reading the application. And here, on a national stage, she was going to put on a grand show for them.

* * *

 **Well, here we have another chapter! I know it's not exactly biweekly – I actually had it ready to go yesterday but wanted to take some time to look it over today. Anyway, a huge thanks to Little Knight Mik for Titania and The Voice of Night Vale for Mettius! What are your thoughts on these competitors? Is there one you like better than the other? Does anything strike you as different or unique about them?**

 **My hope is to keep up with biweekly updates during the summer, just because I can't see myself writing enough to do weekly updates within the next week. I'll hopefully see you all in two weeks!**

 **Yours,**

 **Goldie031**


	20. The Pair from Five

"How are you feeling about mentoring this year, Luna?" Alana asked as she prepared cosmopolitans, Luna's favorite drink, for the pair of them.

"It's exciting!" replied Luna, seated at the island in Alana's kitchen. "I'm definitely excited about going back to the Capitol, and I think it'll be cool to help someone else through this process."

Alana smiled. She was still getting used to people enjoying going to the Capitol. After all, it had now been nearly three decades since she'd won her Games; while she considered herself fairly well-adjusted, mostly thanks to her husband and children, going to the Capitol from a district like Five only inspired dread. She still remembered the day that Ruby announced the shift to the statutes system. When she heard the news, Alana had instantly grabbed her toddler son and embraced him tighter than she ever had before; never again would she have to worry about losing him. Nothing about mentoring for the Games was good but mentoring in Ruby's Panem was at least a bit better.

"I'm glad you're excited about this. Mentoring can be quite challenging, and my instinct is that we know less about the format of the Events than we do about the format of the Games, which will make this more difficult."

"Well, it would be rather hard for the format of the Games to change."

"That's true. Either way, I wanted to check in and see if you have any questions or concerns going into the Events."

"Well, I was wondering, by what process are we choosing competitors?"

"Well, it's a bit hard to measure trust," admitted Alana as she placed a drink in front of Luna then took a seat next to her former mentee. "After some debating, we Victors came up with one idea that we all could kind of agree on. The idea is to have people ages ten to twenty nominate the person they trust most, and then we'll read through those nominations and select two. I think the general consensus was that we were interested in those who had the most nominations."

Luna thought for a moment. "That sounds like a good idea. I am wondering, though, if it's intelligent to go exclusively based on number of nominations. Like, someone could have a billion nominations, but maybe someone else has one nomination that is way stronger than any of those billions."

"That's a good point," replied Alana. "I think we have to see what happens when the nominations come in, and we can judge for ourselves whether we're more interested in quantity or quality. I will say, though, I'm not sure how many kids will have a large number of nominations."

* * *

On Sunday, Kiyo was Margalit Maor.

"I, like, really want to be on Panem Live someday," Margalit explained, twirling a long piece of blonde hair around her finger and chewing her gum obnoxiously loudly, "and to do that, I, like, need to be able to do impressions. I've heard, like, that the best way to do impressions is to, like, watch other people, like, do impressions of you, so, like, if you impersonate me, then, like, I can, like, be better!"

"Well, from what I understand, impressions on Panem Live are a bit more comedic than what I'm going to do."

"But, like, they still have to get the mannerisms right. And I, like, have a lot of trouble, like, figuring out other people's mannerisms."

"But how are you going to watch what I do? The whole idea is that you have to stay away from me so that people don't realize that you're not really you."

"So I have, like, twelve wigs. And I'll, like, wear a wig that's a totally different color, and I'll, like, contour my face and, like, make myself freckles, and, like, wear my glasses even though my glasses are, like, totally uncool."

"Sounds good. What day do you want to swap?"

"On Sunday. That way, like, you can, like, introduce me as your long-lost cousin or something, so I can be with you."

Maybe Margalit was smarter than Kiyo was giving her credit for.

~.~.

On Monday, Kiyo was Darren Powell.

"I feel like, since the fire, nothing has ever been the same," Darren lamented. "My parents were under a lot of stress, both personally, like mentally, I mean, and also financially; it's expensive to build a house. And you'd think things would get better now that Luna is a competitor, but I don't think it has. My friends got kinda jealous of us because we had money, and while they didn't stop being friends with me, they became more distant. I feel like the circumstances of life have put me in a position that I never wanted to be in, and I just… I need a break."

"Well, that's what I'm here for," replied Kiyo.

"Thank you." Darren handed Kiyo a backpack, which contained the small payment Kiyo charged for their services, his schoolbooks, and his schedule for the day. "When do we swap back?" he asked, beginning to take off his shirt.

"When do you want to swap back?" replied Kiyo, also taking off their shirt. The two switched, then put each other's shirt on.

"I would say after school. That seems to make the most sense to me."

"Sounds good. Let's meet by the equipment shed at the athletic fields so we can quickly switch shirts again and I'll fill you in on anything important."

"That sounds fantastic."

"Now, you leave through that exit and be a bit sneaky until you get to the street, and after a moment I'll head to school for you. Just don't get caught missing school, OK?"

Darren nodded. "Thank you again." Carefully, he snuck out the back door. Kiyo waited a moment, then they confidently left the room, on his way to Darren's first period class.

~.~.

On Tuesday, Kiyo was Xyla Mochurn-Cobaltine.

"I don't regret marrying him at all, even if it was when we were nine," Xyla asserted as she presented Kiyo with an identical outfit to what she was wearing. "We were very good friends when we got married, but I'm pretty sure that it wasn't love back then, and I'm also not sure if it's love now. Over my teens, I haven't had any chance to just… be a normal teenager. I've had to be a wife. I want to know what it's like to be normal, to just be out on the streets or hang out in a café or something. And I want to see what non-rich people are like. My parents kept that from me all my life, homeschooling me so I didn't have to meet them, but I doubt they're as bad as my parents said and I want to learn about them, but there's no way my husband would let me journey out to see because he has kind of similar viewpoints to them because he'll be cut off from his parents if he breaks from their example, and my parents would probably do the same, and we're nowhere near ready to be on our own…"

Kiyo calmly listened to everything Xyla had to say. "That must be very difficult to feel like you're confined to your circumstances. And I'm sure you're especially concerned about complaining about your situation, because most people don't believe that those who are wealthy can have problems of that sort, because the circumstances to which you are confined are quite good."

"That's exactly it! It's almost like you're a therapist or something."

Kiyo shuddered. "Or something."

"Are you sure this will work?" asked Xyla nervously.

"I've been impersonating others for quite some time, and I haven't had a problem yet. Anything I hear or that you tell me is safe with me, and I promise I will never tell anybody anything, unless it is something where you are put, or are putting yourself, in tremendous harm. And you tell me when you want to switch and when you want to switch back to minimize the odds of us being discovered."

"OK. I trust you, Kiyo."

Everyone always did.

~.~.

On Wednesday, Kiyo was Sam Montefiore.

"I can't tell you how difficult it was when everything went down with Rochas last year," admitted Sam. "My mom is the head of the Save Earth Activists here in Five, so my family and I were asked to host Rochas when he was transferred to Five."

"By 'ask,' I presume you mean you were told?" Kiyo asked.

"Bingo. From the time he got here, he was a ticking time bomb; we were all just kind of waiting for the moment that things would go horribly awry. He got one protest strike rather quickly, but then managed to calm himself down when he was threatened with a move to Twelve. While we were all kinda expecting something bad to happen, I was hoping it wouldn't, because I had actually made an effort to be Rochas's friend because we were living together. You know how people from Five can be towards Careers. After what happened in the Events, people have started to be really wary of me. They're concerned that Rochas rubbed off on me and that I'm going to do something that stupid. I need a break from it all, and some advice about how to fix things."

"So you want me to both be you and to kind of observe the situation to give you advice about what you should do?"

"Yes. Everyone who has ever met you says that you give the best advice, and I fully trust you to analyze the situation appropriately and give me a clue of how to fix it."

If Kiyo was any better at standing up for themself, they would have turned down Sam's request; it was way out of their range. At the very least, they could have asked for a bit more money to give advice like that; Kiyo really didn't ask for much from their clients, so asking a small bit more for a much larger task would not have been unreasonable. But Kiyo just wanted their clients to like them, so doing all he could to help Sam seemed like the right thing to do.

"All right, I'll do my best."

"Kiyo, you're incredible."

~.~.

On Thursday, Kiyo was Abel Sparks.

"My father is in the hospital right now," Abel explained sadly and quietly. "We're hoping he'll make it out, but things aren't looking good. I'm the only one who could possibly be with him Thursday, and if things take a turn, we want someone there; thing is, my boss won't let me off of work. I need someone to go in for me so I can be with my dad. I could give you my whole pay for that afternoon!"

"No, that's much too great of a fee for me. Where do you work?"

"In a grocery store," answered Abel. "My job is mostly just stocking the shelves, and occasionally I'm called upon to do some heavier lifting. But it's nothing dangerous like working in a power plant."

Considering the situation, Kiyo might have even accepted if Abel worked in a more dangerous job.

"How do you sign into work?"

"Old-fashioned punch cards. Nothing too complicated. I work after school from 3:30-10:30 with a thirty-minute dinner break."

"Cool, so I don't have to steal your identity or anything."

"Correct. Though, you kind of are doing that anyway."

Kiyo didn't like to think about that part.

~.~.

On Friday, Kiyo had no clients. Those were the worst days for Kiyo.

When they had no clients, they had to face the fact that they didn't actually know who they were inside.

* * *

The application deadline for schools in District Six was fast approaching, and Herman LaPorte was working tirelessly to get his application in.

Well, mostly tirelessly. Herman was the first person to admit that he had quite a short attention span; he'd been working on his application for weeks but wasn't able to get through much more than two paragraphs at a time. But he wasn't being distracted by video games or by a show, at least most of the time. No, Herman was simply distracted by… well, by himself. Herman would start working on an essay, then find that he was hungry, so he would make a snack. In the middle of making the snack, Herman would notice that he wasn't wearing one of his trademark bow ties, so he'd go put one on, but before he could even get to his room, he would remember that he had a homework assignment that he hadn't finished. This cycle could go on for hours, not only thanks to Herman's short attention span but also due to his forgetfulness and his tendency to lose track of time.

"Herman, don't you have school this morning?" called his mother, who had not paid a lick of attention to him all morning. "In like, two minutes?"

"Oh, no. Not again!" Herman jumped out of his chair and began running towards school, conveniently leaving his backpack and homework at home, forcing him to run back home to pick them up and then run even faster to school.

Just a normal morning for Herman LaPorte.

~.~.

When he finally arrived at school, Herman ran right to his first period class, chemistry, without bothering to drop off his backpack first; he just didn't have enough time to stop at his locker. Fortunately, just as the bell rang, he slid into his seat next to Ada Linus, his best friend and lab partner. The two of them had been thick as thieves since they were eight and grew even closer together as they grew older. Neither of them really fit in in their year, perhaps because of Herman's eccentric nature or Ada's shy façade. But they were different people when they were together; Herman was more loyal to Ada than anyone, and Ada trusted Herman enough to be both talkative and calm around him. They knew more about each other than anyone else did, and were each able to see the other's inside and not just their outside persona.

"Just in the nick of time," Herman breathed.

"As always," Ada replied, smiling at her friend. "I see you're missing a bow tie this morning.

"Oh, damn it! Not again."

"Hey, don't worry – your sweater vest makes up for it."

"Yes, but I'm not me without my signature bow tie."

"OK, settle down class," announced Mr. Chapman as he entered the room and set a stack of papers down on his desk. "As you know, today is a lab day, so we have a lot to cover. Please clear your desks and take out a single pencil, and put your hair up if your hair is at least shoulder length. Once the room is clear, I'll distribute the instructions for today's lab."

Herman carefully hooked his backpack onto the hook mounted under the lab table. He unzipped a pocket in his bag to grab a pencil out; in the process, he knocked the bag off of its hook. It fell to the floor with a way louder crash than one would expect to hear from a backpack of that size. "Oops."

"Herman, do you need me to help you?" asked Ada.

"No, I got it." He managed to get his bag secured on the hook, then placed his pencil delicately on his desk. "Ready to go!"

Once everyone in the class was ready, Mr. Chapman passed out the lab instructions. "Now, everyone, please be careful. We are working with actual fire today, as well as very dangerous and flammable chemicals. This lab also has the most glassware of any lab we've done thus far. Which is all to say: everyone needs to be very, very careful. Got that?" Mr. Chapman stared directly at Herman, who nodded. "Very good. You all may begin."

Herman and Ada read through the lab instructions, paying careful attention to the supplies that the experiment was required. After scanning the list, Ada said, "OK. I'm going to go get the chemicals. I want you to go and grab the glassware, but only take one piece at a time, OK?"

"I got it, I got it," replied Herman. He went to the rack of glassware and took two beakers and two graduate cylinders back to the station. Or, he tried to. On the way back, Herman managed to trip on the leg of one of the other lab tables and went flying, sending all four pieces of glassware to the floor. "Oh, no."

"Everybody freeze!" called Mr. Chapman, rushing over to first make sure Herman was OK. "Did you land on anything?"

"Just my face," groaned Herman.

"All right. Well, I'll grab the broom, and it looks like we have to reset the counter." Mr. Chapman went up to the bulletin board and reset the "Days since a Herman-related incident" counter to zero.

The highest that counter ever reached was two.

~.~.

When the bell rang, Herman made his way to a surprisingly less dangerous class, Energy Studies; more accurately, he started to walk towards Energy Studies, realized he left his bag in Chemistry, went back to grab his bag, and then was almost late to Energy Studies. Although, if there was a class that he would be OK being a bit late to, Energy Studies would be the class.

A staple of the curriculum for the eighteen-year-olds in Five, Energy Studies was meant to prepare them for careers working in one of Five's industry-related jobs. This would theoretically no longer be necessary in the wake of the redistricting now that children in Five could get jobs anywhere depending on what they wanted to do. Problem was, it wasn't that easy to just pick up and move, especially when the industries of the districts that people actually wanted to live in, like One and Two, required a particular skillset that most kids in Five simply didn't have because they weren't brought up learning how to, say, make a pattern for a dress. Admittedly, it was just the sixth year, or so, since Ruby announced the redistricting, and there were still a lot of kinks to work out. But for now, Energy Studies was in Five to stay, to the dismay of every student taking it; either they just could not see how anything they were learning could possibly apply to any form of actual job, or there was simply too much information for any one student to absorb.

"OK, class," droned Mrs. Smith. "Now that we've finished going through the homework, we're going to talk about Ohm's Law. Does anyone know what Ohm's Law is?"

Everybody turned to look at Herman; while he might not have been the most popular kid in his year, especially thanks to his tendency to royally mess up the chemistry classroom, he could at least be trusted to know the answers to questions like this. "It has to do with circuits, right?"

"Correct, Herman. Ohm's law connects voltage, current, and resistance, which helps us when building circuits. It says that the current between two points times the resistance is equal to the voltage across a conductor. Understanding Ohm's Law is the key to the way we structure power plants around the country; in other words, the more resistance, the more heat, the less energy continues along the wires." We need to break up the wires, then, so that the energy from our power plants here can reach all the way to places like Twelve and Thirteen. This is why what we do is so important; every other district is trusting us to provide their power." Mrs. Smith, an avid industrialist, continued to wax poetic for the rest of the class about the importance of the power-producing district and the role it and its substations served for the entire country of Panem, eventually beginning to rant against the tendencies of other districts to put District Five down when it was them who supplied the power that enabled them to work and –

 _RIIIIING!_

"Oops. Well, class, your homework is problems one through thirty in chapter four of the textbook. On my desk, first thing tomorrow."

Exasperated, Herman and his classmates filed out of the room. This was the fourth class in a row that Mrs. Smith had introduced a concept but not explained it, yet expected her students to fully understand it and do homework about it. T Unabashedly, Herman's classmates gathered around him to ask him to explain the concept and for help with their homework. No matter what, they could always trust Herman to have all the answers. And even though they sometimes bullied Herman, and even though they called him a teachers' pet, and even though they left him out of their parties because they were scared he would tattle, Herman would naturally help them.

After all, who didn't want validation from their classmates?

* * *

"Well, it seems as though we didn't have to worry about how many nominations we would get," Luna remarked, looking at the stack of small pieces of paper on Alana's table. "How'd we pull this off?"

"We distributed the questionnaires through the school system, making sure that every child's homeroom class was accounted for, and then used the employment registry and other district records to at least present the offer to the nineteen- and twenty-year-olds. Apparently, when you have adults encourage – er, rather, force – kids to complete a task, they're more likely to complete it."

"Yeah, I could have told you that. Have you begun to sort through them?"

"A little bit. Why don't you look through them and tell me if anyone jumps out to you."

Alana waited calmly as Luna read through the nominations. After a while, Luna had pulled out one in particular. "This one is so kind and genuine. The way she talks about this kid Herman just speaks to me on a personal level."

Alana read the nomination over her shoulder, then fished through the rest of the nominations to find who Herman had nominated. "And he nominated her – even better! If you connect to Herman, you should mentor him."

"But shouldn't I look through all of the nominations first before choosing?"

"In theory, yes. But to be honest, with this many nominations I don't think we'll be able to."

"Isn't that a bit unfair?"

"I mean, yes. But there's no completely fair way to choose competitors."

"I suppose so."

* * *

Arriving home, Herman snuck inside and made a beeline for his room. Herman didn't always enjoy spending time with his family; as he had been raised by his grandparents for the first eleven or so years of his life, he had never really felt at home with his mom and stepdad, especially considering that his parents paid more attention to his half-brother than they did to him. Herman was much happier when he was in his room, watching his favorite TV show, _Doctor Who_. But he barely got through half an episode when Herman heard a knock on the door. He pressed pause, turned off his TV screen, and called, "Come in!"

"Herman," announced his mother, "a letter came in the mail for you today." She handed Herman an orange envelope.

"Oh?" Herman took the envelope and slid it open. "I wonder who it's from." He pulled out the piece of paper and read it very carefully. "I… I can't believe it."

"What?"

"They picked me as a competitor for the Events this year."

"Well, isn't that exciting, dear."

Herman watched sadly as his mother walked away, towards his brother's room. Sure, he couldn't quite believe this either, but she… she just didn't seem to care all that much about him. If this news was real, Herman should go celebrate with someone who really cared. He hurried over to Ada's house and knocked quickly on the door. "Ada! Ada! I have news."

Ada opened the door. "What's up?"

"I got chosen as a competitor for the Events!"

"Really?" Ada smiled.

"Yeah! Look, it says so on this letter right… oh no."

"Did you forget it at home?"

"I think so."

"Well, I believe you. And I'm very happy for you."

* * *

"So if Herman is the competitor who speaks to me, who is the competitor who speaks to you?"

Alana grabbed a smaller bunch of papers. "I picked out one particular name that I think we're going to have to do some more research into, because they really could be the best example of trust in the district, but they didn't, themself, submit a nomination."

"Weird. What's their name?"

"They go by just Kiyo, it seems. Kiyo got tens of nominations, maybe even one to two hundred. My understanding is that Kiyo has the capacity to take on someone else's identity, so nobody really knows what they themselves look like or what they are like, but everyone agrees that Kiyo has been immensely helpful, and that there's nobody else they trust more in the district."

"That's an odd situation."

"It is." Luna read through a few of the nominations. "I feel like, if so many people chose Kiyo, we kind of have to go with them. But how will we find them?"

"I don't know, Luna. I don't know."

* * *

 **Here we have it, another chapter! Meet Herman LaPorte, courtesy of GenevieveLeigh, and our mysterious friend Kiyo, thanks to SparkALeah! What do you think of them? Is there one you like better?**

 **Because of personal stuff at home, I don't have nearly as much written before heading to camp as I would have liked. I'm hoping to have the last intro chapter up by a month or so from now, but we'll see what happens, because camp is crazy. It's possible it'll be two months before I update again, though I very much hope not. We'll have to see! And next chapter, participation starts! :0**

 **I'll see you hopefully pretty soon,**

 **goldie031**


	21. The Pair from Eleven

**Trigger warning for mentions of an eating disorder in April's sections (and also probably mentions of abuse in at least Mallory's section because Mallory).**

* * *

Once upon a time, Mallory Farro would have been anxious to walk through the streets of her district by herself. The fear of being discovered outside of the house by her parents overcame everything else; if her parents found her outside the house, it would lead to an even greater amount of abuse when she returned. But now, there was something almost triumphant about being able to fearlessly walk through the streets of Eleven. It was the biggest victory she had over her parents.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. The biggest victory she achieved over her parents came every time that she passed them on the street. Whenever she saw the two of them, in their Capitol Purple jumpsuits, picking up trash on the side of the road and being forced to live among the poorest of the poor in Eleven, Mallory found herself standing even taller. The people who were most obsessed with their wealth and status had been stripped of both of those things. It was perfect karma for them, and it gave Mallory pleasure to not only look down on them herself but also to watch those whom they oversaw in the fields revel in the fact that they finally had a higher status than those who were nothing but cruel to them.

On this particular day, seeing her parents gave her even more joy than normal. Today, she was going to hand-pick two new competitors, to hopefully give them an opportunity to improve their lives, just as her life had improved thanks to the Events the year before. With a spring in her step, or at least as much of a spring as she could with her leg situation, Mallory made her way to Ivie's house in Victors' Village to begin the competitor selection process.

When she arrived, Mallory gave a casual wave to Crixus, her co-mentor and former district partner, before sitting down at the table next to Ivie, her mentor and closest friend (which was to say her only friend). A few moments later, Quiinn joined the trio, taking the fourth seat at the table. "Hi, guys! How are you?"

"Good," Crixus and Mallory replied.

"That's good. Are you both ready to select your competitors?" Both nodded. "Very good. I'm going to explain the options that you have for competitors in front of you because, as you might guess, there are fewer applications on this table than eligible kids in Eleven.

"Ivie and I decided that it would be best to not give you guys complete control over choosing your competitors; while we want you to feel comfortable with the people whom you're going to be mentoring, we also recognized that having you choose from the entire population of the district might make things difficult. Additionally, the two of us wanted to have a consistent definition of perseverance for our two competitors, especially because one could say that everyone in the district is persevering because, you know, that's life in Eleven. We eventually decided that those who were eligible for the Events were those who were persisting through some sort of significant health challenge, whether that be physical health or mental health. We put out applications to be filled out by either potential competitors or others wishing to nominate those children, and then narrowed the answers down to the competitors that we believe truly emulate the value of perseverance. Now, the decision moves to you to select the competitors you're mentoring. We'll give you both some time to look through the applications before making your decisions; Mallory, as the younger mentor, you'll have first pick of your competitor."

Mallory scanned the table, then turned to Quiinn. "How long do we have to look through these? I want to be really thorough."

"A good couple of hours," Quiinn responded.

"Good. Because this might take a while." Mallory took a deep breath and began to read through the applications.

* * *

 _April Salinger, Nominated by Reed Nolan, Ollie Salinger, and Mica Eisworth_

* * *

It all started when she was ten. The glares, the whispers, the frustrated and tense feeling across her whole house. Even when her parents tried to hide it, April Salinger knew that something was wrong. And it wasn't just the sound of shattered china coming from downstairs that informed her that things were getting worse.

"Did you finish your drawing?" April asked, looking over the shoulder of her brother, Ollie, who was carefully sketching away on one of her drawing pads that she was lucky to afford. The two spent hours together behind the closed and locked door of April's room, April's attempt to keep her brother safe from and unaware of the situation downstairs.

"Not yet," Ollie replied quietly. "But do you want to look at it while I'm working?"

"Sure," smiled April, determined to give her brother as much attention as she could, as her parents were clearly so wrapped up in their own fighting to do so. Carefully, she took the drawing pad out of her brother's hand and analyzed his work. "I like your giraffe!" she said.

"It's not a giraffe," Ollie replied dejectedly.

"Oh." The two fell silent for a minute, April not wanting to ask what it was but completely clueless as to what Ollie had actually drawn.

"It's an oleander flower," Ollie explained. "For you. Cause you picked my name. Oleander."

April looked at the drawing again. "Oh, I see it!"

"Really?"

"Yeah," lied April. "See, I thought it was a giraffe because the flower looks like a head. If you put a little more work into defining the petals, it'll look perfect when you color it in."

Ollie's face brightened, clearly happy to get validation from his sister. With renewed energy, the boy took the drawing pad back from his sister and continued to work on the flower, fortunately focusing hard enough that he couldn't hear the shouting and the crashing coming from the kitchen. But as the noise from downstairs got louder, April noticed something… weird happening in her stomach. It was a borderline tingly feeling, something like a knot that was growing with every passing second. By the time that the shouting died down and April's parents calmly called her and her brother for dinner, the damage had been done.

April didn't eat anything that night. And it was far from the last time.

It took over a year for April's parents to notice that anything was wrong with their daughter. Meal after meal, they were either too engrossed in their fighting or too salty at each other to really pay attention to their children. But they didn't notice as their little girl began to fade away, dropping to a measly 55 pounds. It was only once her parents finally matured enough to agree that it was time to get a divorce that they realized what had happened to their daughter.

And yet, they didn't fully realize why.

Postponing their divorce to focus on their daughter, Balsam and Penelope placed April in an intensive therapy program. For hours and hours a week, April sat in a classroom with peers suffering from what she was, information about eating disorders and their dangers being pounded into their heads. And while parts of it were… a little bit helpful, others really were not.

"So, who is in this video?" asked the instructor, showing the children some footage from the 125th Hunger Games.

One of the kids who was nearing the end of the treatment program timidly raised her hand. "Is that Blaze?"

"Very good," replied the instructor. "Blaze was a replacement tribute from the Fifth Quarter Quell, the 125th Games, who was brought to the Capitol just in case but still ended up dying in the Arena. Blaze suffered from anorexia, which, over time, left her with a case of osteopenia, a disease that leaves you with weakened bones and is the precursor to osteoporosis. Blaze's eating disorder rendered her unable to defend herself, which is why she died in the Games.

"Now, we all know that President Emerald has restructured the Games so that none of you can technically be entered into them. But at any moment, things may change back, and you may be entered into the gruesome deathmatch that is the Hunger Games. You need your strength, and there is nothing depleting your strength more than your anorexia. Don't fall to the same fate as Blaze."

But April didn't think she had anorexia. Her stomach was just too full to eat. But she went through the program, finally arriving at a more normal weight – not a fully normal weight, just a more normal weight. Both Balsam and Penelope were relieved to see that their daughter was doing better, and so they returned their focus to their divorce.

Of course, the problem wasn't solved. If anything, the program April's parents put her in just put the tiniest Band-Aid on it; focusing on surface-level fixes would do nothing to fix the actual psychological problem. Any other trauma would undoubtedly rip that Band-Aid right off.

And then the custody battle started, the week of her thirteenth birthday.

Day after day, week after week, April was dragged into court, watching her parents argue about her and her brother and who, from what April understood, got to own them. (April didn't believe either had the right to custody; she had spent more time in the previous three years caring for Ollie than either of them had.) As she found herself being dragged places against her will, decisions of which house she'd be living in when made for her by her mom, her dad, her new stepmom, and a big guy with a fancy hammer, and as that big knot filling up her stomach got bigger and bigger, April found herself longing for something she could control.

She could control how much food she ate.

Slowly but surely, April reduced her food intake. She learned how to deceive her parents, how to lie about whether or not she'd eaten to her friends, and how to chew slowly enough to minimize the amount of food she was eating. Every pound that she lost somehow, in a twisted way, made her feel a bit more comfortable, but she slowly began to fret about gaining even a pound for fear of losing control over the one thing she still had control over: herself. Of course, her parents, now privy to the situation, were on top of their daughter's eating habits. As they watched her get skinnier and skinnier, Balsam and Penelope took the step of literally force-feeding April as she bounced back and forth between their houses. But her parents were still just putting a Band-Aid on the problem, barely keeping their daughter's weight at a healthy level. Nothing had been done to understand the root of the problem.

Then, one day, when April was staying at her mother's house, her mother didn't come home after work.

And she didn't come home an hour after work.

And she didn't come home two hours after work.

Three full hours after Penelope normally came home from work, Balsam walked in the door, tears streaming down his face. "April. Ollie. Come here."

April and Ollie rushed to their father. "What happened?" Ollie asked nervously.

"Your mother… was killed… in an accident. A hit and run."

April was stunned. "No."

"She's gone."

Penelope's death could have been a turning point for Balsam, renewing his commitment to his family now that he and his new wife, Forsythia, had full custody of the kids instead of just weekend custody. But instead, he withdrew even more than he once had, wasting away in his bed as he grieved for his ex-wife – his _ex-wife_! The woman from whom Balsam had had one of the messiest divorces that the judge had ever seen – his words that April had heard from his mouth in court. Poppy was April's best friend, not her father's; he didn't deserve to mourn her as she did. And with Balsam buried in bed and Tia not completely aware of the situation with April and her eating disorder, the girl was allowed to waste away even more. She stopped drawing or painting, the things that had once given her more joy than anything. Her wardrobe reduced to long sleeves, pants, and boots every day, even in the coldest parts of winter. But even as she moved through life without any passion, without concern with what was happening around her, all April was concerned with was not gaining weight.

She couldn't lose control of the one thing she could control.

One day, April was sitting in class, the words of her teacher flying over her head and through both ears as they always seemed to. She was feeling a little bit dizzy, but nowadays, she always felt a little bit dizzy. But she wasn't used to the feeling of her vision growing darker and darker and darker…

Before she knew it, she was in a hospital bed, her brother and his girlfriend, Mica, hovering nervously around her. "What… what's going on?"

"You collapsed in class," explained Ollie. "Mr. Nolan called the ambulance and brought you here."

"Who is Mr. Nolan?" April asked.

"Your teacher."

"Where am I?"

"You're in a treatment program for eating disorders. Inpatient. You'll be here for a while."

"But I don't have an…"

"Yes, you do," Ollie replied, putting his foot down. "April, you're a shell of the sister that you used to be. This is the only way we can get you better, to the point that drawing and painting and… and, well, just living are actually enjoyable for you again. Because I miss my sister."

April didn't realize how much her actions affected her brother.

Slightly begrudgingly, but knowing that she was doing the right thing, April followed the guidance of her brother, friend, and teacher and entered a real treatment program. She learned true coping mechanisms for her anxiety, and why her parents' divorce and fights and everything set her off so strongly. She began to understand why being underweight was just as dangerous for her as being overweight, and how her mental health was impacted by her weight. She ate a full meal for the first time in years. And after some time, she was released, having made tremendous strides in her battle with anorexia.

But it still wasn't enough. For the three months after her release, April and anorexia found themselves constantly locked in a struggle for power. April had her good days and her bad days but couldn't always understand that one bad day wasn't a reason to give up on all of her good ones.

It was just easier to give up.

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, Mallory finished reading every single application laid out on the table. It took her quite some time – her parents had kept her out of school for so long that she actually had a lower reading level than other kids her age – but she was determined to get through all of them to give each competitor their due. When she finished, she looked up to find that everyone else was waiting for her. "Finished?" Ivie asked.

"Yep," replied Mallory. "Finally."

"Good! Did anyone catch your eye?"

Mallory immediately grabbed one application. "I like this one. The obvious persevering through an eating disorder notwithstanding, there's something about how April has had issues with her parents that connected to me. I feel like I could connect with her really well if given the opportunity. And maybe if I help her with that bit, it could help with her eating disorder too."

Are you OK with mentoring an eighteen-year-old?" Quiinn asked.

"I think so? I mean, Ivie will be there with me in the Capitol if I need support so I'm not super worried."

Quiinn looked at Ivie. "That sounds good to us. Now, Crixus. What are you thinking?"

Crixus took a deep breath. "I don't know, honestly. There are just so many options here, and at least the ones submitted by other people seem to be really sincere. But I don't think there's any particular one of these that stands out from any other."

"So you really don't care at all."

"Nope. Like, I'll help whoever it is, because I want them to succeed and I want our district to thrive. But who it is isn't of massive concern to me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"All right, then. Mallory, want to help us choose a second competitor?"

* * *

 _Xayah Amano, Nominated by Isla Hempleton and Xayah Amano_

* * *

There was nothing that made Xayah Amano happier than singing.

Blessed with a gorgeous soprano voice, the girl loved nothing more than being in front of people and sharing her talents with others. She wasn't arrogant about her skillset; rather, she preferred to use the term confident about her abilities. Xayah knew that she could sing well, and she wanted to share that gift with others. There was something gratifying about being able to provide an escape for her friends and for the others watching her perform, especially in a tortured district like Eleven. And she relished in the moments when others called her a little songbird; she didn't care about the money they said she'd get someday from singing but enjoyed it when others got joy from something that she loved so much.

One day, Xayah was performing a gig in a little tavern on the outskirts of Eleven, in an area filled with smaller, family-owned farms, fairly far from her home near the center of the district. She arrived at the tavern early to scope out the scene, followed closely by both of her parents. Thankfully, Kiro and Aiko both fully supported their daughter's endeavors, but were also the right kind of strict with her, raising a well-mannered and compassionate girl. Normally, they wouldn't make such an effort to go to Xayah's gigs when they were far away from their home, but, for reasons that they wouldn't tell Xayah, they were adamant on coming with her this time. Xayah wasn't complaining; she was premiering a new set that night, some of which was dedicated to her parents and her childhood, so Xayah was excited to hear what her parents thought of it.

She just needed to get the nagging voice telling her that her parents were worried about something going wrong out of her head. Everything was going to go just perfectly tonight. It had to.

When she arrived at the tavern, Xayah turned to her parents. "Do you wanna come in to hear soundcheck?"

"No, we'd rather be surprised," replied Kiro, giving his daughter a kiss. "Plus, we don't want to stress you out more than you have to."

"Parents can be stressful," echoed Xayah's mother. "We don't want to do anything to stress you out more. This is a big gig for you – your first in this section of Eleven."

"We'll see you after your set. Good luck!"

After saying goodbye to her parents, Xayah was led inside by the tavern's manager who showed her the little stage on which she would perform. She wasn't someone who moved around a lot when she performed; she had a few bops that she performed, but she preferred to sing calmer songs, usually just with her and a guitar and maybe either a pianist or a percussionist. After scoping out the stage, Xayah and her guitarist played a few songs for soundcheck before Xayah was escorted to an upper room in the tavern to get ready to perform. She did her warm-ups, preparing her body and her voice for the gig. This was the farthest she'd ever performed from home, so she really wanted to do well. When the time came, Xayah put a big smile on her face and energetically made her way onto the stage. She was going to put everything she had into her set.

And she did.

At the end of her set, Xayah went back upstairs to change into a more casual outfit and then rejoined the crowd to watch some of the other artists performing. When she got there, she found her parents waiting with a cell phone. "What's this?" asked Xayah.

"It turns out that someone who saw the show is a manager who is interested in signing you to a label," Aiko explained. "He wants to talk to you." She held out a phone for her daughter to use.

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

Recognizing that the inside of the tavern was way too loud to hear the voice on the other end of the phone, Xayah took the phone and made her way outside, standing on the road outside the tavern to talk to the manager, too dazed and excited to really process what was happening.

She was also too dazed and excited to notice that she was standing right with her back to the parking lot, rendering her unable to see the tractor being driven by the drunk man coming right at her back.

The last thing Xayah remembered was her body flying through the air. Then she hit the ground.

And everything went black.

~.~.

~.~.

~.~.

When she came to, Xayah found herself lying down in a hospital bed. She couldn't quite comprehend what had happened or how she'd ended up there, but there she was, restrained at her waist, resting under the dim fluorescent hospital lights. She felt tired, more tired than she ever had before, and every limb in her body felt heavy, like it was being pulled down into the bed.

Looking around, Xayah noticed her parents and a few other people whom she did not recognize standing around her. "What happened?" she said. Or, rather, she tried to say. But no sound came out.

Undeterred, she tried again, attempting to force any sound she could out of her vocal cords. But the best she could do was the sound of a dying wolf.

Her voice, the thing that brought her the most joy, was simply not working.

Before she could process what that meant, Xayah fell asleep again.

This seemed to happen almost daily: Xayah would wake up, see the people hovering over her, make the sound of a dying wolf, and then somehow go back to sleep again. As this kept happening, Xayah began to fear the worse: paralysis. How could she live in such an agricultural, rural, distributed district like Eleven without being able to do anything below her neck?

Fortunately, it was not paralysis, as Xayah discovered one day when she woke up and found her waist restraint had been removed. She sat up and looked around, then began to test all of her various limbs. With every finger, toe, leg, and arm that moved, Xayah felt more and more and more grateful. She was going to be able to move! To walk around, to live without being confined to a chair or a bed. The little tiny voice in her subconscious knew that she would be able to make the best of things if she was paralyzed, but it couldn't drown out the massive flood of grateful emotions filling her mind.

Life was always worth living. But now she didn't have to worry about living it.

Of course, there was one more part of her body to test: her voice. Again, Xayah attempted to speak. And again, Xayah sounded like a dying wolf.

What was going on?

A moment later, Xayah's parents entered her room along with a doctor. Xayah reached out her arms to her parents, each of whom gave their only daughter a tight hug before they let the doctor take the stage.

"Xayah, I have some difficult news to share with you. The accident you had a few weeks ago caused damage to your vocal cords that we are unable to fix. Everything else in your body has healed mostly, though you will have to do some physical therapy for the next couple of years to fully return your arms and legs to their original state. Honestly, it is a miracle that you will eventually have full use of your arms and legs. We expect you to be out of the hospital probably in the next two or three weeks, and then you'll be doing physical therapy for at least a few months, maybe even longer. But you should, mostly, be able to leave a normal life.

"Do you have any questions?"

Xayah nodded. Yes, she did have many questions, mostly how she was supposed to ask those questions. Fortunately, she found a notebook and a pen waiting by the side of her bed. Xayah picked up the notebook and began to write furiously, eventually holding up the notebook for the doctor and her parents to read.

"So you are still in a hospital here in Eleven," the doctor replied. "You've been here for about three weeks. Your parents have been talking with various professionals here in Eleven to determine whether the better bet is to teach you sign language or to use some other alternative communication device; for now, you'll use the notebook. We think you'll be able to stay in your year in school, but that depends on how your head feels and how you're doing mentally over the next few weeks and months during PT. And we don't know if you're going to be able to talk again, but the odds don't look good as we cannot fix the damage on your vocal cords. Anything else?" Xayah shook her head. "All right. We'll leave you alone for a little bit to recover, but if you need anything, feel free to press this button. It'll alert a nurse who will come right to your aid. Do you want your parents here with you?" Xayah shook her head; she wanted a moment to herself. Her parents gave her more hugs, then left the girl alone in her hospital room.

Even in her hazy state, Xayah knew that her life had come to a crossroads. She could easily just give up on life, with her talent and favorite thing taken away from her. But she also knew that if she chose to do that, she'd never leave her home or her bed. And that certainly was not a life worth living. The only way to live life was to live it as fully as she could, even if she couldn't speak or sing.

And Xayah did. It was a long road to physical recovery, but Xayah persevered, pushing herself as hard as she could to live a normal life, impressing all who knew her with her drive and persistence. She did eventually learn sign language though she also relied heavily on her notebook for those who did not know sign language. She even managed to meet a girl, named Isla, and the two quickly fell into a relationship.

Sure, life wasn't perfect. But Xayah was determined to live her life as fully as she could.

* * *

"I think what's most important for a second competitor is that they complement April in some way," suggested Ivie. "We want a pair that could work together, but I think we also want a pair that shows off different sides of perseverance."

Mallory skimmed over April's application again. "From what I'm seeing here, she doesn't have the most positive outlook on life, and it seems like she's struggling significantly. What if we have someone who has a very, very positive outlook? That could increase our odds of April doing well."

"I think the only thing that could be dangerous about that is if April's partner is so positive that it actually makes April do worse," Ivie pointed out. "Dealing with someone with an eating disorder that serious is a delicate dance and making things worse for her is the last thing we want or need."

"But," countered Quiinn, "if April's attitude is really bad, our best bet of getting sponsors or support from the Capitol in whatever capacity that may be would be by having someone overly positive on our side. That's where I think someone like Xayah could be really good. She must have had at least some exposure to Capitol audiences if she really had a voice that good and if she was being marketed to a manager, so they might already have an inkling of her story. And she has somehow managed to keep a positive attitude through her whole ordeal."

Mallory added, "The other really solid card we can pull with Xayah is that she has persevered more physically getting through the accident and whatnot, while April has persevered more mentally.

"That's true. I think," concluded Quiinn, "we're all basically saying here that we like Xayah and want her to be the second competitor. Agreed?"

"Agreed," said Mallory and Ivie.

* * *

April knocked carefully on the door of her dad's study, a tray of tea and her stepmother's cookies in hand. "Come in," called Balsam.

"How are you?" asked April, as she carefully poked the door open.

"I'm doing," replied Balsam. "I think I've been better, though." April placed the tray in front of her father. "Thank you for the tea, dear."

"How's work?"

"It's going."

The two fell silent for a moment. April looked at the enticing-looking plate of cookies now resting on her father's desk. She took a deep breath, then gingerly picked up what looked to be the smallest cookie on the tray and carefully nibbled at it. Balsam looked up at his daughter, smiled, then turned back to his work. April, feeling only moderately dejected, left her father's study, closing the door carefully behind him.

Noting that she was in a better mood than normal, April made her way downstairs to where her brother and stepmother were working together in the kitchen. "Oh, April! I have something for you!" exclaimed Ollie. He disappeared into another room in the house before emerging with a brown envelope. "This came in the mail while you were upstairs."

April turned the envelope over in her hand. It looked fancy; April was well-off for Eleven's standards, but this was clearly from an even wealthier place, almost undoubtedly the Capitol. She carefully slid open the envelope and took out the letter it contained. "This must be a mistake."

"What do you mean?" asked Ollie with a smile on his face.

 _I don't understand why they chose me. It's not like I've persevered, really. And even if I had, why did they choose me to compete? I can't really be worth anything to the mentors, could I?_ "How could they possibly have chosen me for the Events?"

* * *

As it grew closer to the Events, Xayah was getting more and more nervous about her application to compete. She didn't consider herself a particularly arrogant person but filling out the application along with Isla had proven to her that she had, indeed, persevered through a lot in her young life. Xayah knew that she had, at the very least, a solid shot at being chosen as a competitor. And she really wanted that spot! Xayah daydreamed about visiting the Capitol, seeing the miraculous technological innovations that the scientists there had created. And to be a part of the Events would also simply be incredible. Xayah was particularly optimistic about the future of Panem at this point in its history, and the girl wanted to be a part of the good changes in the country.

Finally, after what seemed like eight years of waiting, Xayah found a brown envelope waiting for her in her mailbox. Just feeling the weight and the quality of the envelope told her that this was what she'd been waiting for. She eagerly ripped it open and pulled out the letter it contained. Without missing a beat, she made a beeline for Isla's house and started banging down the door, using their special four-knock code: a long knock, two short knocks, then another long knock.

"Yes?" Isla said excitedly as she opened the door.

"Look! Look!" signed Xayah, waving the letter in front of her girlfriend's face. "They picked me. They really picked me!"

"Oh, I'm so proud of you," replied Isla, giving her girlfriend a hug. "You're going to do amazingly. And I'll be watching you every step of the way."

* * *

 ***peeks head out from around corner* Hi!**

 **It's been a hot minute since I've updated, but I can explain. For those of you who have been following me for a while, you probably know that I work at a sleepaway camp over the summer with very young kids. My job is incredibly draining, and it leaves me very little or energy to write (honestly, even keeping myself healthy can be a challenge). But, camp is now over, and while school does start in like two weeks, I'm determined to stockpile a few chapters and keep to a regular update schedule!**

 **On another excellent note, we have** _ **finally**_ **finished the intros! A huge thank you to TheMayflyProject for April Salinger and to LordShiro for Xayah Amano! What do you all think of them? Is there one you like better than the other? How do you think they fit the value of perseverance?**

 **Also, the time has come for… participation! Participation is going to work a bit differently for IDIDE2 than it did for IDIDE1, but for now, we'll be using the same system. Using the form on my profile, please let me know who your seven favorite competitors are by giving them points, seven points for your favorite of the seven and one point for the lowest of the seven in your ranking. If you have any questions about this, please PM me, and I'll also be double-checking responses of new submitters to make sure y'all have this right. The secret word for this chapter is finally.**

 **I have the next chapter, which is the Reaping Recap, pretty much finished at this point, so depending on how much more I get written in the next week, I'll either update next Tuesday or the Tuesday after that. And I've already planned out the pre-Events, so brace yourselves, friends, because this story is going to be a wild ride!**

 **Thanks for your patience, and I'll see you soon!**

 **-goldie031**


	22. The Competitors of the Second Events

Violet Emerald took a deep breath before knocking on the door to her aunt's office. The president was always stressed, but she had been particularly stressed over the past few weeks as the Second Events drew nearer. And with the two of them headed to the dossier meeting, which would inevitably stress Ruby out more, Violet knew that she didn't want to be the cause of even more stress.

"Who is it?" called Ruby.

"It's Violet. Are you ready to go to the dossiers meeting?"

"Yeah. Give me one sec." After a moment, Ruby opened the door to her office. "I finally got the escort list ironed out. That took way longer than I was expecting, though."

"Really? Why?"

"We've got an almost completely new slate of escorts starting this year," explained the president. "Only three returning from last year's Events."

"Wow! Why?"

"I wanted a clean slate," Ruby replied, withholding information from Violet as usual. A shrewd woman, Violet could tell that her aunt was hiding something, but, as usual, elected to ignore it.

"Are you ready for this dossier meeting?" Violet asked, changing the subject as the two neared the high-security conference room.

"I sure hope so," Ruby replied. "I need these Events to run smoothly after the shitshow that was the Games."

"They weren't that bad."

Ruby often forgot that Violet had no idea about the rescued tributes; rescuing a Cresta and then being forced to rescue a Career was not exactly a good thing. But there was one thing about the Games that both could agree was a very negative outcome. "Abbadon?"

"OK, that was a little bad."

"A lot bad."

"Hey, Aunt Ruby, stay calm. Everything is going to work out just fine."

"I just… I just want to keep the people's trust in me."

"And you will. They can tell that you care about them; that's more than anyone could even think to say about President Snow."

"That's true."

Arriving at the conference room, Violet and Ruby took their seats on either side of Madaline Ohm, who was in charge of background checks on the competitors and tributes. This year, the background checks were perhaps more important than ever, not just because of the mess of the previous year's Games. In a random drawing, there was no control over who was selected; background checks before the Games served to prepare the Gamemakers for anything that might cause problems in the Arena, or any particularly dangerous, or particularly innocent, tributes. Doing background checks for the Events meant that, if there was a big problem with one of the competitors, it could be prevented. It was up to Ruby to determine if anything about any of the nominated competitors was big enough to merit disqualifying them; so, while she usually preferred not to attend to keep herself unbiased towards the tributes, she had to attend to approve the competitors. Her hope was that no mentor would be dumb enough to send someone who might be disqualified. Ruby wanted the districts to have autonomy in this matter, but, more importantly, she needed to keep herself, her Events, and her country, not to mention her reputation, safe.

"All right," President Emerald said. "I've never been in one of these sessions before. Madaline, I fully yield to you."

"Thank you, Madam President." Madaline passed a folder each to Ruby and Violet, then uncovered the projector. which displayed a slide that read "THE COMPETITORS OF THE SECOND INTER-DISTRICT, INTER-DISCIPLINARY EVENTS" in giant, magenta calibri (she'd decided to be a bit more mature now that the President was there, and therefore steered away from her favorite font, comic sans). "All right. Last year, we went in order of the Drawings, but I think this year, it makes more sense to just go in order of district, so that's what we'll do. I'll review each competitor, the reasoning given for why they were chosen, and then anything else I've found that's important. I'll remind you that, as none of the competitors have been notified about their status as competitors yet because we haven't approved them, I couldn't conduct any interviews with their friends and family, so I'm relying exclusively on information we can legally access from records. We'll begin with our pair from the Capitol.

"Our first competitor from the Capitol is Mettius Dunebreaker, age fifteen, who identifies as non-binary and, to our understanding, uses ey/em pronouns. While I'm not going to mention everyone's schools, it's important to note that ey attends Keller Academy." Ruby and Violet nodded in understanding. "Of the two competitors nominated from the Capitol, it seems as through Mettius is less of a public leader; ey is a good support system for eir friends, and ey helps make everyone feel like they belong. My understanding is that ey has the potential to do great things, but ey is sometimes scared of the spotlight."

"Well, ey will be placed into the spotlight for sure in the Events. Is there any sign of a formal leadership role ey hold?" asked Violet.

"Not that I'm aware of," replied Madaline.

"I don't think that's a reason to disqualify em, though," Ruby decided. "There are many different kinds of leaders, and if Silas and Lyric believe that ey represent leadership well, then ey do. Our job here is not necessarily to police how the mentors are interpreting the District Values, unless we see something really off. I approve of Mettius; let's move on."

"OK. The second nominee from the Capitol is named Titania Pyrrhos, age seventeen, who identifies as female and uses she/her/hers pronouns. If you've ever heard of Cirque du Pupilla, which you probably have, considering that it's one of the most popular attractions in the Capitol, she founded that troupe and serves as its leader; it's thanks to her that they have any success. Now, the Capitol team requested letters of recommendation from applicants for their competitor slots. Titania's two recommendation letters are from two members of her troupe, and Silas and Lyric report that they are glowing recommendations."

"She sounds good to me. What do we know about her family?" Violet asked.

"None that we know of. She was in the foster system for a while, but eventually ran away. We have a gap of a couple of years before we find her again, when she applied for a permit for Cirque du Pupilla."

"Interesting," Ruby mused. "That probably says more about the foster system than it does about her. I'll take note of that. No problem with her, though."

"Great. Now, we'll move on to the competitors from District One, coincidentally, both of whom are named Pax."

"Really? Wow, that's a wild coincidence."

"I know," replied Madaline, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I'll have to go through the history of the Games and see when the last time this happened was. Anyway, first, Pax di Fiore Altomare, age seventeen, who identifies as male and uses he/him/his pronouns. Seventeen years old. You might know of the Altomares; they're one of the oldest families in One and have been training in the Academies there pretty much since the foundation of the Academy system. If you don't, it's because none of them have ever made it into the Games. I think we can all see the irony of Pax being selected for the Events, and it's quite clear that both he and his family fit the value of commitment quite well. As you might expect, being from One, Pax has been in training for years, and is currently sixth in his year."

"When does he turn eighteen?" asked Ruby.

"April."

"So he's in the running for this year. Or at least, he would have been."

"Do we think he'll be upset?" asked Violet.

"Unsure. My understanding from his academic transcripts is that he's not the sharpest pitchfork in the barn, even by Career standards, so I feel like he could easily be swayed to not be upset. We'll have to see. If we're good, we'll move on to Pax Imperioli, also seventeen, though she identifies as female and uses she/her/hers pronouns."

"I'm glad they use different pronouns; it'll be an easy way to tell them apart."

"Yep. Pax is also involved in the Academy system, but she actually trains at North Star Academy because she has Crohn's Disease, and a particularly severe case of it, too. I'm actually kind of surprised just how severe her case of Crohn's seems to be considering the medical technology we have. Anyway, Pax has been training at North Star since her diagnosis; even though she's, from my understanding, really physically weak, and even though nobody from North Star has ever made it into the Games, she still believes that she can enter the Games next year. Nobody can deny that she's committed, though."

"Correct. Do we have a sense of what makes her case of Crohn's so severe?" asked Ruby.

"We're not sure. All of the medical information I have for her is based off of her Academy records and her application for North Star; I don't have access to basically any medical records because of privacy laws. I bet we can get a sense of it when we do the medical check Thirteen asked us to do."

"Do we think she'll be upset about not going into the Games?" Violet asked.

"I see you have one particular concern. Like with Pax, and like with this next nominee, it's hard to say, but my bet is that she will be upset, considering how hard she's worked even with her diagnosis. Anything else? Great.

"The first nominee from District Two is Noel Patterson, age eighteen, who identifies as genderfluid uses they/them/theirs pronouns. Noel has quite the history with the training system in Two. Their brother, Jade, was one of the final ten trainees eligible to volunteer for the Games when he was eighteen, and then backed out, angering Noel greatly for some reason that I don't quite understand. They were further angered when, at eighteen, they were ranked sixth in the last round of cuts before the Events. They got so mad about that they absolutely decimated a trainee while sparring, causing them to be kicked out of the Academy."

"So we're dealing with a competitor who has anger issues, and is probably very volatile, and almost definitely very mad about getting picked for the Events. Why would Two choose him? It's like they knew they would make us fail. And what do we do with someone like that?" exclaimed Violet.

"Violet," cautioned Ruby. "Stay calm. Let me think." The three sat in silence for a moment before Ruby continued, "I think we should let them through."

"What? Why? They are a huge liability."

"I know they're a risk. But I'm less worried about antagonizing Noel right now and more worried about antagonizing Two. Firstly, my guess is that it took them approximately forever to decide their competitors. More importantly, though, my concern in general with Two is that they know where we're going: the eventual elimination of the Games. That's going to be a huge culture shock for Two. I need to not antagonize Two more, so I'm fully willing to let Noel through even if they're not the ideal competitor for the sake of larger peace because they fit the district value so well. We'll just need to have a lot of security around them."

Begrudgingly, Violet agreed with her aunt. "Let's move on."

"All right. So, if Noel represents physical strength, the second nominee represents mental strength. Presenting Mack Valley, age fourteen, who uses he/him/his pronouns and identifies as male. Mack is a much more well-rounded kid than Noel; in addition to his physical training, Mack takes advantage of electives offered in the Academy, and seems to have taken electives both in the arts and in the sciences. He also has a very creative mind, and a great group of friends with whom he plays a game called Dungeons and Dragons. But Mack most represents strength because of his migraines. He seems to get pretty severe ones but pushes through when he gets them to the best of his ability."

"Mack sounds like a great, calm, and non-traditional pick from Two!" Violet exclaimed, clearly still salty about Noel. "Does he take anything for his migraines?"

"Again, I don't have medical records, but if not, I'm sure we can try to provide him with some medication if we can figure out what he needs. Any other questions? Fantastic.

"Now, on to District Three, who did something very interesting when they picked their competitors: they literally did a Drawing of Names."

"So it was determined totally by luck?"

"Yes."

"Incredible," marveled Ruby. "Their choices are fantastic, in that case, but I do want to hear about them just so we have some idea about who we're dealing with."

"Sounds good. Firstly, Kamela Wisdom, age fourteen, identifies as female and uses she/hers pronouns. Kamela's school records indicate that she has a number of health issues, including Aspgerger's, tritanopia, which is blue-yellow colorblindness, and a form of OCD. Those records also indicate that she gets really disturbed when her routine gets disturbed, and that she sometimes has trouble focusing, so we may want to repeat instructions a few times for her. In terms of her colorblindness, Violet, I don't know how much you'll be able to do on that front."

"We'll have to do as much as we can to keep her comfortable, and in a worst case, she'll have a district partner who can help with her colorblindness," said Violet. "Who's her partner?"

"His name is Kubi Quince, age thirteen, identifies as male and uses he/him. We don't see much of anything particularly unique about him. He was born into a wealthier family and has one particularly close friend, though it's unclear how well he gets along with the rest of his year. We don't have much more about him, but I can't imagine there's anything too crazy. If there's no questions, I'll move on.

"Cool. District Four. Their first competitor is Marilyn Porcher, age seventeen, identifies as female and uses she/her/hers pronouns. Four sent us the nominations they received for each of their competitors, and Marilyn's are numerous and detailed; they clearly show her as a woman who is not afraid of anything but is also kind and encourages bravery in others. Marilyn has been involved in the training system in Four, and is the cousin of Calytrix Porcher, who is one of the Victors of the 126th Games. A trusted and tight-lipped source in Four's Academy indicate that Marilyn's side of the family got really intense about training in the wake of Calytrix's victory, and then mellowed out in the past year or two after the deaths of both of their grandparents, one after the other. Any big questions about Marilyn?

"All right. The second competitor from Four is Augustus Nero, age sixteen, male, he/him/his. Also trained, has a father that works in the Academy system in Four. Augustus has just one nomination, from his sister, to thank Augustus for standing by her during her transition when she was kicked out by her parents. We were asked by Four not to ask her for her position on the matter, so I'm not sure where the difference of opinion precisely comes from, nor how that trickles down to his opinions on training. But I don't think he's of as much concern as some other competitors. Any questions?

"Cool. Moving on to District Five. We'll get Herman out of the way first, because he's the easy one." Ruby raised her eyebrows as Madaline moved on to the next slide. "Herman LaPorte, age eighteen, male, he/him/his. Seems to be a perfectly normal kid, all things considered. He was raised by his grandparents for the first eleven years of his life, then moved in with his mother, her husband, and their son. Herman is applying to programs in Six, and intellectually seems to be at or near the top of his class."

Do we know exactly how he models trust?"

"Not exactly," replied Madaline, looking through her papers. "I assume it has to do with his social circle at school, but I don't know for sure as I'm more restricted than normal."

"But I trust the team in Five to choose competitors that fit trust," asserted Ruby, "possibly more than any other district."

"Sounds good. On the plus side, I do know the reason why the Five team believes their second competitor embodies trust, because they can't find them."

"What?!" exclaimed Ruby and Violet.

"Let me explain. All we know is the name of the competitor, Kiyo; we don't know their gender or age, so we'll use they/them pronouns for now. From what I gather from the Five team, Kiyo offers their services as an identity trader, meaning they'll take someone's identity voluntarily to give that person a break. The problem is, nobody actually knows what Kiyo really looks like, because almost the only time anyone ever sees Kiyo in person is as someone else, and from what I've gathered from reading through the nominations, their appearance is generic in the first place. Alana, who's the returning mentor from Five, really feels that Kiyo represents trust best, but doesn't know how to continue from here. She was very smart and checked the records from the Reaping last year, and Kiyo did check into to the Reaping, so we know that they exist, at the very least, but other than that, we're kind of stuck."

Violet looked at her aunt, as if to yield to her judgement. Ruby thought for a moment. "Normally, identity theft would be a statutory offense, but there's no malicious intent here. And if I'm understanding this correctly, Kiyo is only trading lives for one-day periods, right?"

"That's my understanding."

"I have a lot of questions about this, but I don't think, instinctively, any of them are enough to knock Kiyo out, mostly because I fully trust the team in Five to have chosen someone appropriate who isn't, like, masquerading as someone who should be under a statute but isn't. I'll dispatch a task force out to Five to help out, I guess? In a worst-case scenario, they can call Kiyo's name out at the Send-Off Ceremony and that's how they find them."

"That might be the best bet. It's a weird situation. Should I tell Five to have a backup option prepared?"

"I think so, but I have a feeling we'll find a way to find Kiyo. Let's move on."

"Good. On to District Six. This is an interesting pair for a number of reasons. We'll start with Sigmund Roost, male, age fourteen, he/him/his. Sigmund used to live in District Two but moved with his sister and her boyfriend to District Six in the fall of 131, so they've been there for just about four years. I've included their moving papers in your folders for you to check out later on if you need, but from what I can tell, they're perfectly verifiable."

Ruby looked at the papers in her folder. "Is there any relation here to…"

"I'm not sure. I had limited time to tackle these background checks, and their last name is one of the most common not just in Two but also in all of Panem. If you want, I can check that out for you afterwards."

"Yeah, that would be great. If there's any possible connection that could make things interesting, I want to know about it as soon as possible."

"Understood. In terms of other info we have on Sigmund, my understanding is that he and his district partner were picked because of their scores on a test administrated by the mentorship team. If you want to, I can provide his school records; expectedly, coming from Two to Six, his grades are not so great in his first year in Six, but they improve by leaps and bounds from there. Questions on Sigmund?

"Sigmund's district partner is named Ella Shapiro. Age fourteen, female, she/her/hers. Lots of stuff here. Ella's mother, Yael, was placed on a statute in January of 134, so just about two years ago, for drunkenly assaulting a Peacekeeper. She was only eligible for one Reaping, in 134, despite the length of the statute. While she was on the statute, her mother was in prison, so she and her sister, Bar, moved in with their uncle, where they have been living since. Even with all of this, Ella is an intelligent girl who thrives academically, and is near the top, if not at the top, of her class. One thing of note is that she wears a prosthetic arm; it seems to have been 3D printed by her uncle, so I'm not sure the quality, but we can certainly provide another for her if it becomes necessary. Any questions on Ella?"

"Cool. On to District Seven. Again, I'll start with the simpler one. Seven's first competitor is Darcy Spades, age seventeen, female, she/her/hers. Darcy has an interesting story: she's the gravedigger for her sector in Seven, and she is specifically responsible for the tributes' graves. She is married already, so Spades is her married name, which is rather convenient. It's unclear to me whether or not she's in school, but her husband is, at the very least. Any questions about Darcy?

"Darcy's district partner is Oksana Devlin, age fourteen, female, she/her/hers. Oksana is the younger sister of Avery Devlin, who… died in the 128th Games, after being reaped due to their father's statue for, and I have no idea how he did this, chopping down a tree that fell on a house. After her brother was killed, Oksana seems to have taken over the role of her family's protector and enrolled in the training system in Seven to protect her family. About a year ago, there was a whole mess that happened in their house where Oksana defended her trans brother verbally, and eventually physically, that had her arrested and nearly put on a statute, but thanks to her sister's careful record-keeping in a journal, the arrest was transferred to her father and Oksana was exonerated. Oksana has still been training, just in case, and from what the mentors have been telling us in Seven, she's not completely stable. Which isn't to say she's unstable, she…"

"She lost a sibling because of her father," Ruby cut Madaline off. "I'd like to talk privately about the District Seven pair after this, but objectively, I'm fine with them both." Violet gave Ruby a look which the president didn't acknowledge; clearly, her aunt wasn't going to reveal any more information, so Violet turned her attention back to Madaline.

"In that case, we'll move on to District Eight. The first competitor from Eight is Jacobus Tailleur, age fifteen, identifies as male and uses he/him/his pronouns. Jacobus is the inventor of the Vac-Bot, which is a lower-cost, industrial-grade robot that helps to clean the factory floors in Eight. He worked with Maccalister Manufacturing to manufacture them, and in the three months since they've hit the shelves they've done quite well and made him a nice sum of money, which has helped his parents, who are supporting their family by working long hours in the factories. That's the big stuff with Jack. Any questions?"

"Standard questions with Eight – anything rebel-related that we know of?"

"To my understanding, it's in fact the opposite. There's a rebel tendency to bring intentionally flammable material into the factories and drop it on the floors, hoping to spark it and cause fires. The Vac-Bots help prevent fires, so they're an anti-rebel device by definition, though I'm not sure if that was intentional on Jack's part. But I'm fairly sure that, if he knew what the rebels do, he wouldn't have made them. Sounds good? Great.

"Jack's partner is Paisley Burrell, age sixteen, identifies as female and uses she/her/hers. Paisley comes from a big family; she's the fourth of six children. Her father has a bad leg, so her mother supports the family by working as the direct assistant to the mayor, so it's pretty safe to say that there's no rebel activity happening there either. Her family even spent two years in Seven on a visa, which is also a good sign. Obviously, I'm limited personality wise on what I can find about people, but there really doesn't seem to be much about Paisley; Eight didn't specify why she was nominated but there's such a small pool in Eight that I guess they didn't have many choices. Any questions?

"On to District Nine. They did something super cool when they chose their competitors: they screened them in pairs, so they could find the two of them that work together best. That's how they came to choose their competitors. Their first competitor is Nova Ward Yamomoto, age twelve, identifies as female and uses she/her/hers. Nova's father runs Ward-Yamomoto Warehousing and Logistics, which is the biggest and most effectively run warehousing company in Nine, and therefore in Panem. The company was originally based in Six and moved seamlessly to Nine after the redistricting. Ward-Yamamoto offered jobs to many people from Nine, but also brought a few of their strongest employees who were stationed in other districts as associates with them into Nine as they took the opportunity of the redistricting to restructure the company. One of those employees is Graham Delano, who moved his family from Seven to Nine. Graham's son Berk, age twelve, male, he/him/his, is Nine's second competitor. We didn't find much of anything in either of their records; both come from decently sized families and seem to be pretty solidly middle class. Nine's mentor team reported that they seemed to kind of know each other through their parents but didn't grow up as friends per se. Nothing too alarming here with either of them; they seem to be two very wholesome kids who are just excited for this opportunity."

"So Nine is sending in, voluntarily, two twelve-year-olds?" Violet marveled.

"Hey, if they really work together best, don't fight it," insisted Ruby. "Nine is another district whose judgement I trust."

"Excellent. Moving on to District Ten, whose competitors are Alder Eltier, age seventeen, male, he/him/his, and Marshall Kane, sixteen, male, he/him/his. I sincerely doubt I could have found two more normal boys if I'd tried. Both come from lower to middle class families, both attend school, and both have good friends, as interviews with their friends indicate. The only difference is that Marshall has a job working in a butcher shop while Alder doesn't work, and that Marshall lives in a rural area while Alder lives in an urban area. It's also of note that, based on some of the information that was gathered from his friend, Alder seems to have a much rougher home life, but I wasn't able to get any specifics. There's nothing alarming or even notable here, which is not a bad thing. Any questions here?

"Good. Now, on to District Eleven. When submitting their competitors for review, Ivie specified that Eleven only looked at competitors who were persevering through a particular health issue of some kind."

"That's an interesting choice," Violet remarked. "It feels a bit to me like they're trying to prove that their competitors have persevered, and so they're going with the easiest proof they can give."

Ruby commented, "I like where they're coming from, though – if other kids are going through the same things these kids are, it'll show them that they're not alone. Although, it might make our jobs a lot more difficult depending on what conditions we're dealing with. Let's hear it."

"All right. Their first competitor is April Salinger, age eighteen, she/her/hers. April suffers from anorexia, an eating disorder that generally characterized by those who suffer from it restricting their calorie intake and trying to control what they eat so as to lose weight. It's kind of difficult to explain in a concise way, so I've brought in some printouts with information about it for you to peruse to understand her condition. Again, because of medical records, it's a bit hard to say much about her anorexia, but Ivie sent us her application, which seems to indicate that at least part of it was somehow caused by a home life that wasn't particularly healthy. Another thing to note about April is that she comes from an upper-class home in Eleven. I'm not sure how many questions I can answer that you have but let me take them anyway."

"How is her anorexia holding up at this point?" Ruby asked.

"Unclear. My understanding is that it's better than it was before she began a treatment program but that she's still not particularly healthy."

"And what can we do to make things better?"

"I don't know. I think maybe getting her a therapist while she's here, making sure she's actually eating, and keeping an eye on things. But eating disorders are lifetime disorders, so there may not be much we can constructively change in the span of the Events. We'll have to ask her and Ivie when we see them"

"If she's under our care, I want to do what we can to help her get better. Who's their other competitor?"

"Her name is Xayah Amano, age seventeen, she/her/hers. Xayah's application indicates that she was the victim of a hit and run by a drunk driver, which caused her to lose her ability to speak. She also had a number of other physical injuries from which she's since recovered, but losing her voice was very hard for Xayah, as she was a singer who was 'well-known for her gorgeous soprano voice,' as the application claims. From what we can tell, Xayah is living a normal life, except for the fact that she can't speak. Any questions about Xayah?"

"Same question on my end. What can we do to best support her?" asked Ruby.

"It depends on how she communicates, but if she signs, we'll need an interpreter. We can also ask her when she gets here. Any other questions?"

"How is Xayah's home life?" asked Violet.

"Nothing significant that I can see," replied Madaline. "Seems to be a comparatively healthy home life.

"Let's push on to District Twelve. The first competitor is Mina Valadian, age sixteen, identifies as female and uses she/her/hers pronouns. Mina is originally from Two, and while she trained, records show that she never really fit the mold of a normal trainee. Mina was more interested in things like books and survival and healing stations, and less interested in the whole Games, killing, and injuring other people for fun thing. After an incident in training where Mina literally saved someone's leg, Carissa Lovarre herself realized that Mina needed to be training to save people instead of training to kill people. Carissa coordinated with her sister over in Twelve, and soon enough, Mina moved to Twelve and began to study with Janari Lovarre to enter the medical field. In her nomination of Mina for the Events, Janari said that she has never met anybody who is as full of love and as caring and kind as Mina; Janari also mentioned that Mina is at her best when Mina assists with pediatric cases. Any questions on Mina?

"The other District Twelve competitor is named Theodosia Cambria, age twelve, identifies as female and uses she/her/hers pronouns. Now, this is an interesting one, because she was nominated by her teacher, Dalvin Huspeck. Dalvin mentioned in his nomination that she's also one of the nicest kids, always trying to help out even when she isn't really friendly with the rest of her year, or really anybody in her district. What shocks him is that she seems to do so even while living in… not the best household. He believes that Theodosia is being abused by her parents, claiming that she has significant bruises and scars all over her body. I'm hesitant to use the word abuse without concrete proof or eyewitness evidence, though it is something that we can investigate in a legal manner if we feel that is appropriate. What we do know for sure about her family is that she has fairly young parents, 30 and 31; her father seems to make enough money to sustain the family, as her mother doesn't work."

"The situation reminds me a bit of Mallory from last year," mused Ruby, "but while abuse wouldn't surprise me, if he does not have concrete evidence that there's abuse, we can't investigate. We need some sort of confirmation from Theodosia on that count, and even in that case, there are limitations on who can formally report abuse. See if you can figure anything else out once nominees are notified, but let's let her dictate this."

"Understood. If there are no other questions, I'll move on to our final district, Thirteen. Thirteen's first competitor is Atticus Peregrine, age fifteen, male, he/him/his. Atticus lives at St. Harriet's, which is the only orphanage in Thirteen. By showing the kids little to no affection, enforcing discipline and obedience from a very young age, and though a very strict scheduling system, St. Harriet's produces potentially the best soldiers in Thirteen. Atticus has been at the top of his year from a very young age, and has mastered their points system to earn many points quickly and spend them efficiently. Even at just fifteen, he seems to already be the top child in the whole school."

"Can't deny he's disciplined. I don't love their methods at St. Harriet's," Ruby admitted, "but they produce really good soldiers. And I'm worried we're going to need really good soldiers soon."

"You're always worried about that," Violet pointed out.

"I know. I think the paranoia is the Snow in me, but I can't seem to shake it."

"Let's move on to our last competitor," Madaline jumped in, "whom you might actually know. I don't know if either of you watch the VloggeVision channel AtticusOtter, though judging by the looks on your faces, I don't know if you even know what Vloggevision is… anyway, Thirteen's second competitor is Atticus Otterson, age eighteen, identifies as male and uses he/him/his."

"They're both named Atticus?" exclaimed Ruby.

"Yep. And I don't know if you noticed, but their last names both have to do with animals."

"Oh goodness," groaned Ruby. "Nobody is going to be able to tell anybody apart."

"Yep, not with two Paxes, two Atticuses, a Jack and a Mack, and a Noel and a Nova."

"Oh lord."

Madaline continued, "As I mentioned, Atticus is the owner of a very popular VloggeVision channel called AtticusOtter. It's a vlog channel, which means he makes video blogs of his everyday life. He seems to not have missed a day since the first day he vlogged, which is quite impressive. I'm unsure as to how he has internet or a camera in Thirteen, which is a district notably strict with allocation of frivolous things; perhaps the culture there has changed, or perhaps it has to do with his father's position on the school board. Because of his VloggeVision channel, we know a lot about him, his home life, his friends, etc., and so does the rest of Panem, or at least those with internet. It seems as though his channel has become a platform for people in the LGBTQ+ community; he's gay and had a public relationship with a boy with whom he has since broken up, though that was on more than amicable terms. I won't go into more details because you can go watch the vlogs yourself, but they all indicate a good home life, a loving family, and all-around good stuff." Madaline paused. "Violet, you look pensive."

"Yeah." Violet thought for a moment. "Aunt Ruby, how do you feel about having a competitor who is so well-known in the Events?"

"I'm not sure precisely how well-known he is, which is why I'm willing to accept it. We might be able to use his channel to help spread a positive message, if he'll let us, but I think the majority of adults won't really know him? I don't know. I'm not opposed to it, especially because he's not our pick."

"I guess that settles it. There we have our competitors for the Events. Any last questions? No? Great. Ruby, you wanted to talk about the pair from Seven?"

"Yes. I'll catch up with you, Violet."

"All right." Just like the previous year, Violet left the room; she'd quickly learned that she was not going to get even near all of the information she wanted whenever her aunt was involved. She'd just have to wait and hope that someday she'd be let in on the secret.

Once Violet had left the room, Ruby began flipping through the folders to get through the pages from District Seven. "So there's clearly lots to talk about here."

"Oh, yes."

Ruby took a deep breath. She knew what she was about to say could put her whole operation in danger, but she also knew what Garnet would say about the situation. It wasn't Oksana's fault that Avery was reaped and then saved; she shouldn't lose out on this opportunity because of her father and because of chance. For once, Ruby needed to relinquish control, with all of the risks that came with it.

"I don't think us having picked Avery to save is necessarily a reason to count out Oksana; we just need to make sure that Avery knows not to seek her out. She won't be looking for him; we just make sure he doesn't hunt too much for her, especially when he sees what state she's in, but we can use Liana to communicate that message. I'm actually more worried about Darcy. Do you know if she just digs the graves, or if she also buries the bodies?"

"I'm not sure, but don't we mimic the weight of the tributes whom we save in their coffins?"

"We do, and we do mandate closed-casket funerals, if at all possible, for tributes, but…"

"Let me see what I can find out. If there were any suspicions on her end, I'll let you know, but she also might not put too much thought into it. She probably digs quite a few graves every day."

"That's true. Well, I'll go let the districts know they can notify their competitors. There's definitely some big personalities here, but I'm hoping when all is said and done it'll be fairly low drama. What we need is some nice, wholesome Events, right?"

"Right. Nice, fun, drama-free."

* * *

 **Hello friends! It's your friendly neighborhood Goldie back with another chapter! A lot of info here, but I think that's a good thing as it's been like nine months since the first intro. What did you think of the chapter? Did anything catch your eye? Who do you think make up the new slate of escorts?**

 **I'm doing a pretty good job of writing ahead, so I might even have a chapter up next week! If not, though, definitely expect one in two weeks' time when the action will really kick off. See you then!**

 **-goldie031**


	23. Train Rides, Part 1

_Herman LaPorte, 18  
District Five_

* * *

Today was the big day.

Herman had been waiting anxiously for what felt like forever for the first day of the Events. He enjoyed watching the Events tremendously the previous year and was more than honored to have been chosen to represent District Five. To be someone whom the district, or at the very least the mentors, believed to be trustworthy was a great honor, but that put a lot of pressure on Herman; Five was trusting him to represent them well, and he had no choice but to deliver.

And that meant not screwing up, certainly not today; he had to make the best possible impression on the people of District Five.

Herman got out the letter he'd received a week or so prior, which had laid out everything he would need to do before reporting to the Justice Building later that morning. Herman was going to follow that list as carefully as possible; it was more important than ever to do everything right.

Herman got up and got dressed in a fairly typical outfit for him: a button-down shirt, slacks, a tacky orange sweater vest, and an orange bow tie; he'd been instructed to wear orange in honor of District Five, of course. Then, he double checked that he had everything he wanted in the small orange suitcase he'd been issued; the letter said not to worry about bringing clothing, so he chose to bring some decks of cards and other magic tricks to use to make friends and a couple of seasons of his favorite show, Doctor Who. After pausing a moment to think, Herman decided to throw his favorite purple bow tie into his bag. He didn't want to be breaking a rule, but he really liked that bow tie, and wanted to have it with him in case he could get a chance to wear it.

Hopefully he wouldn't get in trouble. That would be really bad, especially this early on in the Events.

After finishing getting ready, Herman set out on his second mission for the day: saying his goodbyes. The letter specifically stated that there would be no time after the send-off ceremony to do so. Triple-making sure to grab his suitcase – that would be very bad to forget – Herman began to look around the house for his family; as today was a holiday, they should be around. Sure enough, his parents and brother were sitting together, playing a game.

"Well, I'm off," Herman announced to his family.

Herman's mother stood up and gave him a slightly uncomfortable hug. "Good luck, son."

"Don't embarrass us," instructed his father, looking over his glasses without putting down his cards.

Herman's half-brother didn't even acknowledge him. The kid was still upset that he wasn't picked, even though he wasn't old enough to be picked. Herman stood around awkwardly for a moment before looking for the person to whom he really wanted to say goodbye. Double-checking again that he had his suitcase, Herman left his house, making a beeline to Ada's. She was the one person whom he was really going to miss.

When Herman got to her house, he nervously knocked on the door. Fortunately for Herman, Ada answered the door. "Oh! Hi, Herman."

"Hi, Ada. I just wanted to say goodbye; I have to be at the Justice Building soon and I won't be able to see you after the send-off."

Ada wrapped Herman in a hug. "I still can't believe you're representing District Five! It's so exciting."

"I know."

"You're going to do brilliantly. Just please try to be careful, OK?"

"I'll try," Herman smiled. The two stood together, a pregnant pause between them. Herman badly wanted to tell Ada just how much he loved her, and how he wanted nothing more than to care for her and be with her forever. But there was one thing that he couldn't bear to think about, and that was losing her or their friendship. So he held his tongue, preferring to stand in an awkward pause than to risk saying something he would regret.

After a moment, he said, "I gotta go. Have to be at the Justice Building soon."

Ada threw her arms around him in a hug. "Have a great time. I can't wait to watch!"

Sadly, Herman turned around and began to walk towards the center of town. But before he got too far, he heard Ada call out, "Herman! You forgot your suitcase!"

~.~.

When he arrived at the Justice Building, Herman was met by Alana, who took his suitcase and ushered him into one of the goodbye rooms. "It's kind of funny how this is all working in reverse," Alana chuckled. "Usually we start out on the stage and then go back here, but for the send-off, we're starting back here and going out onto the stage."

"Yeah, that is a fun coincidence," Herman responded.

"Feel free to sit down, make yourself comfortable. It might be a bit."

"What exactly is happening with this?"

"The mayor will start with a speech and will explain the conditions of the Events this year, then he will introduce the mentors, the escorts, and then you and your district partner."

"And who is my district partner? Will I meet them beforehand?"

"Well…" Alana paused. "We don't exactly know who they are yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know of Kiyo?"

Herman thought for a moment. "That's a name I've heard before."

"Well, they got by far the most nominations, but we can't find them on really any record. Like, we genuinely do not know who they are. Our plan is to introduce Kiyo and call them up to the stage like we would a reaped tribute."

"But wouldn't that make them unable to say goodbye to their friends and family?"

"See, because we can't find them on any record, we're not sure if they even have friends or family to whom to say goodbye. We'll announce that if anybody would like to say goodbye to them, they'll have some time to do that, but it won't be nearly as deep as I'm sure your goodbyes were."

"Makes sense."

"All right, make yourself at home here and I'll be back to get you in a moment. Do you have any questions before I go?"

"Yeah. Is it OK if I brought a bow tie even though you said we didn't need to worry about clothes?"

Alana shook her head, a small smile on her face. "Yes, Herman. That is totally fine."

"Good. I didn't want to be in trouble already."

* * *

 _Nova Ward-Yamamoto, 12  
District Nine_

* * *

Nova was not exactly able to focus during the send-off ceremony. She really wanted to, of course; all of the speeches were being made by people who were so excited and proud of her and Berk. But they were so long and kind of boring. Nova preferred to think about the exciting parts: when she and Berk were introduced to the district to wild cheers, when they were each presented with a lovely medallion that was surprisingly really heavy, when their families were invited up to present the competitors with flowers. Nova felt the excitement coursing through the veins of Nine, and she was beyond thrilled to be representing Nine in the Events.

But then it came time to say her last goodbyes before she left, and the reality of leaving everything she knew behind hit her.

And reality hit Nova hard.

Sitting in a goodbye room in the Justice Building, Nova was first visited by some of her classmates, with whom the girl had been placed for the initial screening. They were all very excited for the girl, who received their excitement graciously and kindly even though they weren't particularly close friends. Then, to Nova's surprise, her teacher, Mrs. Mills, came in. "Hi, Mrs. Mills!"

"Hello, Nova. I just wanted to pop by to wish you the best of luck during the Events."

"Thank you very much. I'm very proud to have been chosen to represent our district."

"We are all very proud of you as well." The two made small talk, which was challenging for Nova as her teacher was so much older than her. Nova was, admittedly, relieved when her teacher left; it was hard to talk to adults.

Next, her actually close friends, Bailey, Cara, and Milo, came in to say goodbye along with Nova's sister, Natalie. The group of friends had a good time laughing and hanging out and predicting what would happen in the Events. As they talked, their predictions went from fairly tame ("A Victor!" "Competitions!" "A romance!") to downright ludicrous ("Pools and castles of candy!" "Giant dogs that'll step on everyone!" "A contest to see who can make the longest piece of rope!"). By the time her friends left, Nova was doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down her face. How good it was to have friends like hers!

The last group to come in was her family, who gathered around Nova and gave her hugs and kisses and just generally made her feel so loved that, as soon as the time came for them to leave, Nova couldn't help but burst into tears. For her entire life, Nova had been supported and loved by her parents and siblings, all of them, in their own way, there to support the girl as she grew into the young woman she was becoming. And now, she'd be leaving her home, her comfort zone, everything she'd ever known for an adventure. Even though, in her heart, Nova knew that she'd have a good time, nothing mattered when you were hugging your mom and dad for the last time in who knew how long. When the time came for her parents to leave, Peacekeepers had to come in and forcibly pry Nova's arms off of her parents. As the door closed, Nova heard one of the Peacekeepers mutter, "I haven't seen a kid this sad to leave home since the 123rd Games."

"And she's gonna see her family in, like, a month," replied the other.

A few moments later, Nine's escort, a small woman by the name of Sola Boded, appeared in Nova's doorway. "Hi, Nova. Are you ready to go?"

Nova shrugged.

"Come on, honey," Sola said, kneeling next to Nova and beginning to rub her back. "I know it's scary to leave home; trust me, it was scary for me coming here and I'm an adult. But we have such a fun adventure ahead! You're gonna get to do such cool stuff that you could never do here, and you'll get to see so much of Panem, even if it is from afar. And before you know it, you'll be back in your mother's arms again."

"But… I've never been away from my family for this long before. Even when we moved, we moved together."

"I understand. It's totally OK to be homesick; so many people get homesick when they're going to the Capitol for the Games or the Events, or even when they're going somewhere else for any reason. But homesickness is like a band-aid. You know how when you pull off a band-aid, it hurts more when you draw it out than when you just pull it off all at once?" Nova nodded. "So it's the same way with this. The quicker we get on the train, the less this is going to hurt. OK?"

"OK, I guess," replied Nova.

"All right. Let's go to the train, OK? And try to look excited; I know it's hard when you've been crying, but you are excited for this, right?"

"Uh huh."

"So let's show Panem that." Sola stood up. "Ready, buddy?"

"Yeah." Nova stood up, wiped away the tears, and followed Sola to the car that would take them to the train station, putting on the bravest face that she could. As she walked, she found herself slowly getting less and less sad and more and more excited. Sure, it was scary to leave home, but that was something that seemed to be scary for a lot of people, at least according to Sola. And she realized that the more homesick she was, the less likely she was to have fun during the Events! And however scared or intimidated or self-conscious or self-doubting Nova was, she still intended to have fun.

When she got to the car, feeling much better about everything, she found that Berk's face was also tear-streaked; clearly, he was also sad and scared to leave home. Attempting to comfort her friend, Nova smiled as best as she could and put a hand, gently, on Berk's hand. "We'll get through this together, right?"

Berk looked up, noticing the tears on Nova's face as well. A small smile formed on his face. "Right."

* * *

 _Silas Rune, 18  
Capitol Mentor  
Competitor in the First Events_

* * *

"Well, wasn't that a lovely send-off?" Silas carefully asked their competitor, Mettius, as they drove from the send-off ceremony to their accommodations for the night.

"It was," Mettius replied. "And it was especially nice that our send-off was last in the day; I liked being able to spend a lot of today with my family before not being able to see them for a few days."

"Yeah, that must have been nice. I didn't get so lucky; the Drawing of Names was right before we began getting ready for the Opening Ceremonies, so I didn't really get to say goodbye to my parents before I left.

"I think this way is better."

"I agree. But I also got to go home afterwards. Imagine being a kid Reaped in the districts and not really having any time to say goodbye, just being pushed onto a train and sent away."

"I never thought about it that way."

"I didn't either."

"Where are we going right now?" Titania piped up.

"We're going to Lavinia and Henderson's house to spend the night."

"I thought the Events were in Thirteen though. Wouldn't we have to take a train to get there?"

"It's complicated," replied Silas. "We'll explain later."

It had become a tradition for the Reaped children from the Capitol to spend the night after they were reaped at Henderson and Lavinia's house; they could not stay at home, as that wouldn't be fair to the tributes from the districts, but obviously did not need to travel to the Capitol after the Reaping. The tradition had taken a short hiatus for the First Events; as the Drawings of Names were split between two days, the Capitol's took place on the same day as the chariot rides, so the competitors were taken right from the Drawing to prepare. With all of the send-off ceremonies happening on the same day for the Second Events, the tradition would be returning, to Lavinia's great joy and Silas's tremendous apprehension.

When the car arrived at Victor's Village, Silas hopped out first, then helped the rest of the Capitol team out of the car: first Titania, then Mettius, then Lyric, and finally Amos. To Silas's delight, Amos had been chosen as the escort for the Capitol; they weren't sure how that happened but having a companion during the Events themselves was something for which Silas was tremendously grateful, particularly on a night like tonight. After unloading the luggage from the back of the car, Silas led his compatriots to the door of the only occupied house in Victor's Village. Before he could even knock, Lavinia flung open the door.

"Oh, darlings! Welcome!" Lavinia exclaimed, trademark mimosa in hand as she ushered the competitors and mentors into her home. Silas noticed that she was now using a glass with her name printed on it in sparkly gold script. "It's so nice to see you, and I'm so excited to be hosting you this evening! Please, come inside."

The Capitol team entered Lavinia's house. Silas watched as both competitors took in the mansion that the Victors lived in; most likely, neither had ever seen anything that lavish in their lives. Lavinia, always more than willing to show off, swiftly whisked the competitors off on a tour of the house, leaving the mentors and Amos to their own devices in the kitchen. Lyric quickly wandered off, looking for the music room in the house that she had discovered on their last visit, leaving the other two alone.

"How are you feeling?" Silas asked Amos, approaching his friend and colleague.

"I'm OK," Amos replied. "A little nervous."

"About being an escort? You're gonna do great!"

"Yeah, but now the success of two people is in my hands. It's a little bit scary."

"That's true. If it's any consolation, neither Lyric nor I have ever done this before. We'll all be in the same boat!"

"That's moderately helpful, I guess."

"Don't worry! It'll be great."

Amos shrugged. "I'm gonna go find my room."

"Probably on the second floor," Silas replied, taking a seat on a bar stool next to the island and resting his head on his arm. As he watched Amos walk away, he couldn't help but feel like something bigger was wrong. If Amos didn't explain what was going on, Silas wasn't going to push, but his demeanor indicated that there was something up that wasn't just escorting nerves, particularly because, from what Amos had been told, the escort job was going to be easy for the Events. Sponsoring didn't seem to be a thing for the Events, so Amos's only job seemed making sure that the competitors didn't eat each other alive and that they got to Thirteen, and then back home, in one piece. With these two, that didn't appear to be the most difficult job. So what was worrying Amos?

Perhaps it had something to do with the earlier send-off ceremonies. While the identities of the competitors would be nationally televised later in the evening, Capitolites had the privilege of seeing each ceremony live as it happened. Silas didn't know much about Amos's past, so perhaps something that he saw during coverage of the other send-off ceremonies affected him in a way that Silas wouldn't understand.

"Hi, Silas. What's up?"

Silas was shaken out of his daydream by the voice of Henderson, the less exuberant husband of Lavinia. "Oh. Not much."

"Really? Because you seem to be rather deep in thought."

"Oh, I guess I was." Silas shrugged. "But I'm not too worried about it."

"Well, just be careful that whatever you are feeling doesn't impact your ability to perform when it matters most."

"What do you mean?"

Henderson took a seat beside Silas. "Lavinia and I… we had a thing going before the Games. How the two of us are compatible, I don't know, but there's something about someone throwing their life away to save you that brings you infinitely closer to that person. And she was trained, sure, as was I, but you never really know how well you're going to do in any given situation until you get into that Arena. And there were a few moments where I really worried that Lavinia would actually sacrifice herself for me, and that I'd be left without her. And more than once, I thought about doing the same thing for her. Now, granted, you're in a situation with a lot less pressure. But you still have to be careful. You can't let your love for Amos get in the way of mentoring these kids."

"But I don't love Amos. I'm not fully ready to love someone after what happened last year."

Henderson nodded. "I understand. But you're at least particularly concerned about him."

"I guess so," Silas acknowledged. "I like him very much as a friend and I want him to be OK."

"And he will be. Trust me, I know."

"Thanks, Henderson."

* * *

 **We have officially entered the pre-Events! I hope you're as excited as I am about the next few chapters because I have a lot of stuff in store for y'all to lead up to some very fun Events! From here we have two more train rides chapters, each with three POVs, then two Banquet chapters, one with three mentor POVs and one with four competitor POVs, followed by the explanation of the rules, which should take us through October-ish.**

 **Because we're doing three train rides, this is a bit of a slower chapter, but what did you think? Who is Kiyo? How will Nova handle being away from home? What will happen with Silas and Amos?**

 **Within the next few days, I'm going to check in with those of you who have not yet finished your check-ins, so check your Discord/FF for that. I'll see you all either next week or the week after for another chapter!**

 **-goldie031**


	24. Train Rides, Part 2

_Ella Shapiro, 14  
District Six_

* * *

"Ella! Sigmund! It's time to watch the Competitor Introductions!" called Panama Stewart, the new District Six escort.

"Coming!" Ella called. Putting down her book, the girl grabbed her favorite crochet hook and a skein of teal yarn before joining the rest of the District Six team in front of the television. A moment later, Sigmund joined her. "What's that?" he asked.

"I'm crocheting a sweater."

"Why?"

"I like to crochet, I wanted to practice working on sweaters, and it might be cold in the Capitol."

"That's fair." Ella patiently allowed Sigmund to watch her crochet for a few moments, deliberately slowing her hands down so that Sigmund could watch what she was doing and learn from it. After determining that Sigmund had a sense of how it was done, Ella sped up, determined to finish the sweater before the Events started.

"All right, kiddos," Nell said, addressing the two competitors. "What we want to do right now is get a sense of the competition. Obviously we're not sure how you'll be relating to the other competitors, if at all – last year, we didn't need to interact with anyone else to succeed, but we also didn't have to worry about anyone else sabotaging us."

"Except Aviel," interjected Sigmund.

"Well, yes, but that wasn't Capitol-endorsed. Anyway, if interaction with other tributes in any way plays into the Events, we want to be prepared for that off the bat. So keep an eye out for people that you might want to ally with, or for people who worry you. We'll talk about it once mandatory viewing is over." Nell's vocal tone switched to a mumble. "I don't even know what to call this. Is it a Reaping Recap? Is it a Ceremony Recap? I don't know…"

As the television set turned on, Ella focused her attention on the screen in front of her, absent-mindedly continuing her crocheting as she watched. District by district, Dorian and Harli introduced the chosen competitors to the country, explaining why they had been chosen and how they reflected their district's value. As Ella watched, she noted how excited the announcement of each name made her feel. It dawned on her that this must be how Capitolites felt upon the introduction of each tribute for the Games. Chills ran down Ella's spine; Ella could easily have been one of those tributes, riding on this very train towards her death, not towards a celebration of life.

The program moved fairly quickly, making it difficult for Ella to keep track of all of the competitors. A few in particular stuck out to her: both Paxes and both Atticuses, of course, by virtue of the whole district partners with the same names thing. Another stand-out was Noel Patterson, one of the competitors from Two, who looked equally miserable in his official portrait (which had been taken during the leadup to the Events) and at Two's send-off ceremony. And the team from Nine was absolutely adorable, the pair of twelve-year-olds looking positively ecstatic to be there and to be teammates.

But one girl stuck out to Ella in particular.

"The first competitor from District Seven is Oksana Devlin, age fourteen, she/her/hers," Dorian read from the papers in front of him. "If the name Devlin sounds familiar, that's because her brother, Avery, was reaped for the 128th Hunger Games on their father's statute. Oksana has been selected out of District Seven's hope that some good karma will soon come her way."

Ella rose her eyebrows, momentarily putting her crocheting down. Someone else in these Events had once been on a statute! And it was her parent's statute as well! So few people in Six seemed to understand what Ella had gone through during her time on the statute, but now there was someone in very close proximity to her who understood precisely what it felt like to be put in danger because of one's parents' actions. Perhaps the two of them together could do something about the Statues system, to maybe fix it and make things better for those placed under the Statutes.

As soon as Dorian and Harli signed off, Sigmund and Ella turned to each other, Ella immediately noticing a slightly nervous, slightly pained look in her partner's eyes. Before she could ask what was wrong, Nell took control of the situation. "Let's start with who we like," Nell instructed. "Who did you see where you were like, huh, this might be a good friend-type person."

"I liked Herman," Sigmund began. "Something about him was just like, oh, he would be fun to hang out with."

"Which one was Herman?" Ella asked, trying to recall him in her memory.

"The kid in the bow tie."

"Oh, right. Him."

"I take it you don't like him as much?"

"I don't think it's that I don't like him, he just didn't stick out to me."

"So who stuck out to you, Ella?" Nell asked.

"Oksana. She and I have more in common than she knows, and I want to talk to her and get to know her because of it."

"All right, good. So we have a few initial ideas of who might be good allies."

"Do you think we'll also need to worry about their district partners?" Sigmund asked.

"Well, did either of them stand out to you?" Both competitors shook their heads. "That's actually a good thing. If neither stood out in a bad way, it means we don't really need to worry about them, because they probably won't be too problematic. Anyone else interesting to you?"

"Yeah," Sigmund continued, "Jack from Eight. He seems like a lot of fun. Also Kamela from Three – she seems really cool and nerdy and all that fun stuff, but at the same time something about her demeanor made me a bit nervous."

"That could just be Reaping jitters," suggested Nell, "especially because she literally didn't know before the Reaping that she was going to the Events. We might see a new side of her when we get to the Capitol, and then later to Thirteen."

"Wait, we're going to the Capitol first?" asked Sigmund.

"Yeah, we'll talk about that tomorrow. Not a concern for now. Let's keep going. Who are you guys nervous about? Someone where you're like, this person rubs me the wrong way."

"Noel," answered the two competitors in unison.

"Aha. I see that we're in agreement here. What about Noel makes you nervous?"

"He looks like he doesn't want to be there," Ella explained, "like he's just generally mad at his circumstances. I think the Events are so, so important, and someone who just doesn't want to be there makes me nervous, like he'll do something to mess things up. That's the last thing I want."

"And Noel has messed stuff up before."

Ella and Nell turned to Sigmund. "How do you know?"

"Noel's brother, Jade, married my sister, Penelope," explained Sigmund, "which led Jade to drop out of training to spend more time with my sister and her kid. It made Noel really angry, for some reason, and led to him getting kicked out of the Academy and just generally messing things up. I really wouldn't put it past him to do that again in the Events."

"It's possible that he'll be a bit annoying," acknowledged Nell, "but from what I've seen, President Emerald keeps the Events in a really firm grasp. Things happen, sure, but after what happened with Aviel last year, I think Ruby is going to be keeping a very close eye on the competitors to make sure that nothing bad happens."

"That makes sense," Sigmund replied. "I just… I hope Noel doesn't take his anger out on me."

* * *

 _Myranda Lidano, 19  
District Two Mentor  
Competitor in the First Events_

* * *

As soon as mandatory viewing started, Myranda knew she was in trouble.

It wasn't that she felt unprepared for what lay ahead. No, Myranda knew exactly what she was in for; she knew the moment that she volunteered to mentor Noel. And, despite every attempt failing, she'd been working with them every day over the past month or so to try to allay their anger. Myranda had hoped that, somehow, the reality of the send-off ceremony and the Events setting in would somehow demonstrate to Noel that what they would be doing was, in fact, just as important as the Games; in other words, that it was equally important to honor the district and perform well in either competition. He even seemed to believe her words at one point, to the amazement of the Victors in Two; nobody else had managed to get through to him at all.

But when they got to the send-off ceremony, all of Myranda's work went to waste; while Mack maintained a cheerful exterior, Noel just looked sad and sullen, like they would prefer to be anywhere else in Panem. Not exactly the best first impression for a Career, of all people, to make; Miranda had learned that, even in the Events, Careers were expected to be just as excited about the Events as they were for the Games. It was the first sign that things weren't going to be so easy.

Then, during mandatory viewing, the situation got even worse when the pair from Six was revealed. As soon as Noel heard the name Sigmund Roost, they jumped up, flipped over a table, and stormed out of the room, leaving everyone else wondering the same thing.

"What was that all about?" asked Mack.

"I have no idea," replied Chloe, herself looking a bit shaken up. "Myranda? You're mentoring him."

Myranda shrugged. "I have no idea. Let me go try to talk to him."

"Do you want backup?" asked Hannibal.

A part of Myranda wanted to say that she'd be fine on her own. But she also didn't want to end up with a broken nose, and she recognized that, while she no longer exercised regularly, Hannibal still had biceps bigger than her head. "I hope I'll be able to get through to him myself, but if you could stand right outside the door just in case things get a big violent that might be a good idea."

"Will do," replied Hannibal.

Walking with a confidence that she didn't completely have, Myranda followed the trail of footprints stomped into the carpet, finding herself just outside of Noel's quarters on the train. "Noel?" she called, knocking on the door.

"What," grunted Noel.

"Can we talk?"

"No."

Myranda took a deep breath. "Noel, my friend, I need to understand what's making you angry. If you harbor anger, you don't have any shot at winning and making our district proud."

"Being mad isn't bad."

Myranda looked back at Hannibal who, amused, gave her an encouraging nod. Feeling reassured, Myranda kept at it. "You make really poor decisions when you're mad. Trust me, I know, as does everyone who's ever competed in the Games. I guarantee that at least half of the Careers who have lost in the Games lost because they made a poor decision because they got mad at someone." OK, maybe that was an exaggeration; anger could be productive in certain circumstances. This, however, was not one of those circumstances.

"I don't care."

Maybe Noel just needed some space. "All right. If you don't want to talk, that's fine, but as your mentor, I need to know what made you mad, and I am not past reaching out to the rest of the Victors still back in Two to ask them if they know anything about what happened between you and Sigmund."

"Fine."

"I'll be in the dining car if you want to talk."

"Fine."

Myranda waited for a moment to see if her spiel worked. After a moment, she returned with Hannibal to the dining car, where they found everyone eagerly awaiting them. "So? What's the verdict?" Mack asked.

"We got nothing," admitted Myranda. "Noel wouldn't let me into their room."

"Huh."

"Arabelle, do you have any idea of what's going on?"

Arabelle thought for a moment. "I mean, I can hazard a guess? But I really don't know for sure. With Noel, it seems like everything makes him mad."

"But why Sigmund in particular?"

"I don't know."

"Well, can we call back home and ask?"

"I mean, I don't know what they'll know. But we can give it a try. Hannibal, can you take care of it?"

"I'm the oldest mentor, so that would be my job. I'll take care of it."

Chloe turned to Mack. "While he's doing that, wanna talk strategy?"

"Sure! Let's head to my quarters." The two left the dining car, leaving Arabelle, Myranda, and Hestia, Chloe's guardian who was also acting as Two's escort per the president's instructions.

Myranda sighed deeply. "I don't know what to do with Noel," she admitted. "Things were going so well, and now everything is going to fall apart with him thanks to whatever is going on with this Sigmund kid."

"Look," replied Hestia in an attempt to console Myranda, "you're going to do the best you can here. If Noel is just mad about everything and does poorly because of it, it reflects way more poorly on him than it does on you. Remember, he's the competitor."

"But something also tells me that Noel's actions are going to have a wider impact, on more people than just Mack. I'd hate it if Noel somehow messes Mack's game up, sure, but I think it would be way worse if Noel messes other things up."

"We don't even know what the Events are yet," Arabelle jumped in, doing her best to keep Myranda's spirits up. "For all we know, each competitor will be in their own Arena for the whole time and never interact with anyone else."

"That's not gonna happen and you know that."

"I know. But it's a possibility."

"That is true," Myranda relented.

"We just have to let things play out as they will, and as things become problems, we'll fix them. We can't do anything else."

The three women fell silent for a moment, before Myranda asked, "Was I as difficult as Noel?"

A small smile formed on Arabelle's face. "Not even close."

* * *

 _Paisley Burrell, 16  
District Eight_

* * *

As the door of Paisley's room on the train closed behind her, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. The girl slowly took out the hair tie holding her long black braid together, then carefully wove strand under strand to take the braid out. The slow, methodic process of unbraiding her hair helped her to calm her breathing and her heart rate. She had made it through most of the first night without anyone else finding out her secret.

She had accomplished the first part of her mission.

Now the question was how long she could hold up the ruse. Or, more accurately, how long she would. Paisley knew that she at least had to last until the train got out of Eight. But a part of her knew that she might have to keep the mask on for most, if not all, of the Events. Her experiences with the rebels had taught her that cameras were everywhere – in pictures, hidden in drawers, you name it, there was probably a camera in it. The last thing she needed was for the people watching her to find out her secret. If they did, her whole mission would be for nothing.

Once Paisley's heart rate was back to normal, she took a moment to smooth out her hair before leaving her room and rejoining her district team in the dining car. One thing that was comforting for Paisley was that Eight had no Capitolite escort for the Events, as President Emerald had decided, for some reason, to have Sage serve as the equivalent of an escort. Paisley was very happy with that; the fewer people with whom she had to interact, the better because it meant that she was more likely to keep her secret from those around her for as long as she wanted to. So, instead of being assaulted by the avant-garde appearance and absurd personality of an escort, Paisley was met when she entered the dining car with the sound Jack talking excitedly to Riley about his invention. Unable to fully understand Jack's technical jargon, Paisley went over to sit next to her mentor, Sage.

"Hi, Paisley," smiled Sage, moving over on the couch to let her sit. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing OK," smiled Paisley carefully, trying her best not to let her nerves show. "I just… don't understand anything Jack is talking about."

"Yeah, that's understandable. But I'm hoping having someone who is technologically knowledgeable like that will eventually benefit us. Did you watch the D3 morning challenge last year? The one with the geocachers."

"The one you put together really fast?"

"Yeah." Sage blushed. "But I was worried about it. Having someone who knows how to put together this kind of stuff could be very helpful for us. Especially with our district theme being ingenuity."

"Yeah, good point. It is useful to have people who have different strengths."

"So let's think through your strengths. What are some things you think will be helpful to know about you in these Games?"

"I mean, my ingenuity, of course."

"Of course. But everyone is going to expect ingenuity to be one of your strengths. I want to know what kinds of things we're going to be able to work with as we progress through the Events, and what of your strengths will complement Jack's."

"I'm also really good at keeping secrets."

Sage raised his eyebrows. "Secret-keeping is very important because it helps your allies trust you. But if there's one person you shouldn't keep secrets from, it's your mentor." Paisley thought for a sec. Sage was right; she probably shouldn't keep secrets from him. But this secret was so big that she needed to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she could trust him before revealing it to him. Fortunately for Paisley, there was an easy way to figure out whether or not Sage was on her side.

"Do you have any other strengths?" Sage asked. "Like, something that might help you in competition."

Paisley began her little test. "I dunno," she shrugged. "It's hard to figure out my strengths when I don't know what I'm trying to prepare for."

"Oh, I totally understand that," Sage smiled. "It was really tough last year for me to prep for something that you can't prepare for. But, to my understanding, the Games are kind of the same way."

"What do you mean?"

Sage's tone became slightly bitter. "When you go into the Games, you think that you know the skills you need. But really, each year of the Games is so different from every other year of the Games that there's no way to prepare."

"How do you know that?"

Sage paused for a moment, choosing his words very carefully. "Have you watched the Games, ever?" he replied. "They have a tremendous variety of terrains, and the Gamemakers will sometimes do fun things like only have certain types of weapons or throw in random Arena gimmicks when the audience is getting bored or when the Gamemaker feels nervous, especially in the pre-Emerald days."

"I take it you're not a fan of the Games?"

"Nope."

Paisley paused for a moment. "How do you feel about the Events?"

"I like them," Sage replied. "I think Ruby is doing a lot of good for this country, and there's nothing more that I want to do than to support her endeavors."

Instantly, Paisley felt herself relax. She knew that she could trust Sage; something in her even told her that he would know how to help her with her mission.

"Can we chat privately for a second?" pivoted Paisley. "Like, in the storage closet or something."

"The storage closet?"

Paisley chose her words carefully. "I want to talk somewhere where I'm sure, or as sure as I can be, that there are no bugs."

Sage raised his eyebrows. "All right," he replied. He led Paisley to a small room on the train that contained just a computer, then closed the door behind her. "I can promise you that there are no bugs in here. What's up?"

"I have to tell you my biggest secret," Paisley said slowly, carefully, and a bit nervously. "I've never told anyone this before, even though it's the thing I've wanted to act on for forever because I was… I am scared of the consequences of telling. But I need to do something about it, and I need your help."

Confused, Sage replied, "I will do my best. What's up?"

Paisley took a deep breath. "You chose a child of rebels as your competitor." Noticing Sage's nervous reaction, Paisley quickly continued, "But I am not a rebel. Well, I am, in a way. A rebel against the rebels."

"Please explain."

"It's rather simple. My parents, and many of Eight's rebels, want nothing more than to screw Ruby over. And I want nothing more than to take them down."

* * *

 **PLOT POINTS! WE FINALLY HAVE PLOT POINTS!**

 **Or at least, things that will become plot points. I'm really so hyped for what I have planned for the pre-Events and I'm super excited for you all to see it!**

 **What did everyone think of this chapter? Did you see Sigmund coming? Do you think Paisley's telling the truth? What effect with these two reveals have on the Events?**

 **I don't have much to say, just a reminder to submit check-ins if you haven't already. Next up, we'll see Mina, Marshall, and Pax I. where we'll see some more groundwork being laid for bigger plot points. I'll see you either next week or the week after for the next chapter!**

 **-goldie031**


	25. Train Rides, Part 3

_Mina Valadian, 16  
District Twelve_

* * *

Mina couldn't sleep.

She didn't think she was homesick; Mina had been away from her home in Two for quite some time, after all. No, Mina thought this was simply discomfort with the idea of being on a train to the Capitol. Back in Two, trains were decorated with red banners, celebrating the two children – yes, they were _children_ – who left the district to represent it with honor and pride and to, in most cases, give their lives to it. Mina was fully aware that most of the children who slept on these beds returned home in boxes, and as someone who wanted nothing more than to help people, the realization of the hurt that was caused by, and that was caused to, the people who had slept where she was sleeping pained her more than anything.

She had never loved the Games, not by any stretch. But sensing the ghosts of those who had lost them made her dislike them even more.

Not wanting to wake the Twelve mentors, Mina decided to go look for a romance novel to read; after all, it was way too late for her to read anything that would require thought. She turned on the lamp on her nightstand, got out of bed and went over to the small, Capitol-issued suitcase she was allowed to bring, which she'd pragmatically filled with books; she'd predicted that the Capitol would have more than enough clothing in her size, but nowhere near enough reading material, a prediction which thus far had proven accurate. As she was rummaging through the suitcase's contents, she heard something coming from another room down the hall.

It almost sounded like a child's scream.

Without missing a beat, Mina ran down to Cam's room. She carefully opened the door to find the girl flailing and thrashing in bed. Mina quickly analyzed the situation. While to the average person, this would seem like a simple nightmare, Mina had read in one of her pediatric textbooks about night terrors, which were, to the naked eye, nearly identical to bad nightmares, except that a child could be woken from a nightmare, but not from a night terror; in fact, if this was a night terror, Cam would likely be more disoriented if Mina woke her up. Mina knew that she had to help Cam, but if she approached the situation wrong, she could end up making the girl more alarmed, which she didn't want; fortunately, she had the medical knowledge to approach the situation appropriately.

Mina quietly snuck into Cam's room and sat on the girl's bed. She began to talk very slowly, to try to help the girl calm down without alarming her. "Cam, honey," cooed Mina softly, "it's OK. Everything is going to be all right. It's going to be OK. You're safe. You're all right. Everything is going to be fine."

Mina continued to talk softly and calmly to Cam in that manner for what might have been ten or fifteen minutes – Mina wasn't wearing a watch – before reassessing the situation. Cam hadn't woken up or calmed down yet, but she also hadn't gotten up and begun walking around, which indicated to Mina that this was not a night terror but a very intense dream, more likely a very bad nightmare; while she recognized that she'd done the right thing, Mina felt a bit bad for not waking Cam up sooner, as the situation she was in in the dream was probably rather bad.

Mina carefully shook Cam a little bit, just enough to jar the girl out of her dream. Sure enough, the little nudge was just enough to wake Cam up; the girl shot up in bed, panting, tears in her eyes, and instantly scooted back, as far away from Mina as she could get.

"Cam, are you OK?" Mina asked calmly, a carefully placed worried tone in your voice. She saw the girl's face soften a little, become a hair less fearful as the tears subsided a bit. "Did you have a nightmare?" Cam nodded. "Do you want to tell me about it?" Cam shrugged. "Do you want a hug?"

Mina watched Cam's eyes grow wide. The girl nodded, then flung herself into Mina's arms. Mina hugged the girl tightly, feeling the tension in Cam's limbs melt away as the girl snuggled deeper into Mina's side. Cam was shaking and crying, but Mina just let her let it out, recognizing that Cam would share more when she was ready. After quite some time, where the two girls just sat, Mina rubbing Cam's back and Cam's tears slowing down gradually, Cam looked up at Mina, sadness in her light brown eyes.

"Nobody's ever come to comfort me after a nightmare before." She paused. "Nobody's ever come to comfort me for much of anything before."

Cam paused again. Mina just kept hugging Cam, kept rubbing her back, so Cam would know that she was there for her. Eventually, when she was ready, Cam opened up, her past experiences pouring out of her like a faucet.

"My parents don't care about me. They never cared about me. Sometimes they might acknowledge me, but most of the time, if they look at me, it's to yell at me. My father would take his anger out on me because he would never dare to take his anger out on my mother. They call me an accident, which apparently, I was, and worthless, which I guess I must be, certainly to them." Cam paused. "I thought parents were supposed to love and care for their kids. All my parents have done is push me further and further away, only bringing me close to hurt me deeply. And when I have nightmares, and even sometimes when I don't have nightmares, they yell at me when I wake up because I was crying and thrashing at night so they couldn't sleep."

Mina could almost hear her heart shatter in her chest. This poor, innocent wisp of a girl, who had been nothing but positive and optimistic and happy since they got on the train, this beacon of light to the world should not have ever had to go through what her parents had put her through. She had to do something to help care for and protect Cam, so she'd never have to go back to her house of horrors. All she could do for now, though, was pull Cam tighter, closer to her chest.

"I promise you, Cam, those days of abuse and neglect are over. I am here for you, when you have nightmares, when you are sad, no matter what. You are safe with me."

Cam melted into Mina's arms, for the first time returning the older girls' hug. Mina stayed with Cam, rubbing her back and holding her close until they both fell asleep, cuddled up like sisters who had lived together forever.

* * *

 _Marshall Kane, 16  
District Ten_

* * *

When he woke up, Marshall was rather confused. He wasn't in his bed at home; no, he was in a way more comfortable bed that was… moving somehow? It took the boy a moment to remember where he was: on a train, going to compete in the Second Events. Poor Marshall was just completely disoriented, and while he had a feeling that this was a fully normal feeling for competitors and tributes, he couldn't help but take a few moments to orient himself to where he was and what he was doing. As he got out of bed, Marshall checked the clock on his night table. He was shocked to see that it read 8:30; that was at least three hours after he usually woke up.

No wonder he was so disoriented.

Marshall elected to take his time getting ready, a luxury that he'd never had before. He got up, took a long, hot shower, brushed out his dark brown hair, and even used some sort of gel that he could never afford back in Ten to slick it down and make it look smooth. He brushed his teeth, actually picked out an outfit to wear, and even took a few moments to stretch before joining the rest of his team in the dining car.

When he arrived at the dining car, he found that he was the last person to make it to the dining car; everyone else was already seated around the table, eating breakfast together. Marshall carefully took his seat in the last chair at the table and grabbed a plate. As he surveyed the table, he found himself getting sadder and sadder. There were eggs, but not the way his mom made them every morning for him so that they were hot and ready when he got home from work. There were potatoes, but not the way his dad fried them up so they were nice and crispy with a touch of love. And there was coffee, but none of it was in his favorite mug that he used every morning before school starts. Marshall felt tears welling up in his eyes as he thought of all of the things that he had at home with his friends and family that he didn't have here, on the way to this big foreign place.

Luxury and wealth were great, but they were nothing like home.

"Hey, Marshall, what's wrong?" asked Alder, moving to come to his district partner's side.

"I just miss my family and my home," Marshall replied, "and the breakfast my mama makes for me every morning and my friends and…"

"Oh, buddy, me too," Alder said, consoling his counterpart. "It's so hard to be away from home. But it'll get better, I'm sure, right?"

Marshall shrugged. "I don't know. I've never been away from home for this long."

Kitt swiftly jumped in to help Alder out. "It's OK to have trouble being away. That's a perfectly normal response to being so far from home, especially from a very homey district like Ten. But you can just think of us as a home away from home because that's what we're here. Yeah?"

"I guess." Marshall wasn't fully convinced. He really did want to have fun at the Events, and of course, he wanted to win, but he wasn't quite sure how to do that while he was feeling so upset.

"Maybe a distraction would help?" Kira Mazda, Ten's new escort, suggested. "I need to go over the plan for the next few days anyway, so maybe if you focus on that, you won't think too much about home."

"It's worth a shot."

"All right!" Kira took out a clipboard on which she'd outlined all of the information she had to deliver to her team. "So, as you know, District Thirteen is hosting the Events this year. However, with the exception of the Opening Ceremonies, all of the pre-Events activities will be happening in the Capitol. Before you ask, no, I have no clue why; the reasoning has not been made clear to me. Anyway. When we get to the Capitol, you're immediately going to be taken to prepare for the Opening Banquet. It's going to be a very formal affair, not unlike a Victory Ball. I've heard there's a theme for it this year, which is exciting. After the banquet, we'll have an opening meeting with Violet, I think, or maybe with Soorim, the Events Gamemaker from Thirteen. The meeting will serve to explain how the Events will work, and I think we're also going to be doing some form of Color Selection that day as well. Then, you'll have a free day to hang out and get to know the other competitors, and there will even be an opportunity for you to venture out into the Capitol! The next day will be the interviews, and then you'll head to Thirteen for the Opening Ceremonies and the beginning of the Events. Do you guys have any questions about how this is going to work?"

"So are we staying in the Capitol in between the different competitions?" asked Marshall.

"Well, that's assuming that the Events have different competitions and that they're not just one long competition. But my guess, either way, is that you'll stay in or near Thirteen for the duration of the Events. But you'll hear more about that at the meeting after the banquet."

"What about training?" asked Alder.

"My understanding is that we're not going to have any formal training this year."

Before anyone else could speak, the train suddenly got very dark, and the electric lights in the dining car turned on. "Where are we?" asked Marshall.

"We're going through a tunnel that runs through the mountains that block the Capitol from the rest of the country to the east. For security purposes, all of the trains coming into and out of the Capitol come in this way, which is a pain in the neck for One and Five, who border the Capitol on the other side. Now, quick! Come over here and take a look at this!"

Marshall and Alder rushed to the window to watch the bright lights and skyscrapers of the Capitol emerge from the darkness of the tunnel. There was so much to take in that it overwhelmed Marshall, and he could barely even process what he was seeing.

Marshall turned to his district partner. "Alder, I have a feeling we're not in Ten anymore."

* * *

 _Pax Imperioli, 17  
District One_

* * *

Pax was exhausted.

She was exhausted from the incessant talking of her imbecilic district partner. She was exhausted by the overwhelming reception she received when she arrived at the Capitol. And she was exhausted by all of the tweezing and prodding and scrubbing that they subjected her to after she was ushered into the Remake Center. All the poor girl wanted to do was take a moment to rest.

But rest was not in the cards for the girl. As soon as she was approved by her prep team, she was eased into a plush bathrobe and led by the head of her prep team to a separate room. "Before we can get you ready for the banquet tonight, we're going to be doing a thorough medical examination," ze explained. "District Thirteen has requested that every incoming competitor undergo a medical examination, mostly to track anything contagious that might come into contact with military personnel and to treat treatable diseases before the Events start. The doctor will be with you momentarily."

Pax groaned. If there was one thing that the girl had had more than enough of, it was doctors' appointments; she'd probably had over fifty since her diagnosis. But she also recognized that this was the only way that she'd be allowed to compete in the Events. Since she was informed of her selection as a competitor, she had slowly come to terms with the fact that she'd never be able to compete in the Games. Sure, if she was offered the choice between the Games and the Events, she would still choose the Games in a heartbeat; they were the ultimate way to bring honor to your district, and the most honorable way to die. But the way she looked at it, if given the option between no honor and the half honor one could get from competing in the Events, she would, begrudgingly, pick half honor. Half honor was better than no honor, but that didn't mean that the girl had to be happy about losing out on her shot to compete in the Games.

After a moment, a doctor came into the room holding a bulky clipboard; a nurse followed him. "Hi there, Pax. My name is Doctor Martin, and I'll be screening you today. How are you feeling in general?"

"All right," Pax replied. "I'm feeling kind of tired, but that's normal for me."

"Right. Because of the Crohn's disease." Pax wanted to ask how the doctor knew that she had Crohn's disease. But this was the Capitol, after all; they probably had access to her medical records now that she was a competitor. "Well, this shouldn't take too long. We're going to start by checking your vitals, then testing you for various contractable diseases, doing a full-body examination, and reviewing your medical records and medications. If anything gives you pain or makes you feel uncomfortable, please let me know."

Pax sat still as the doctor listened to her heart rate, took her temperature and blood pressure, and measured her other vitals. Then, the nurse drew a few vials of blood and took them away to run some tests. "We should have those results back in a few minutes," the doctor explained. "Meanwhile, I'm going to ask you to take off that robe so we can get a clear look at your skin to check for anything abnormal there."

"All right." Pax shed her robe, leaving on just her bra and underwear.

The doctor carefully walked around Pax, scanning her up and down to see if anything looked abnormal. "Let's take your height and weight." Pax gingerly slid off her slippers and stepped on the scale, then turned around, allowing the doctor to measure her height. As the doctor noted the measurements, Pax noticed their brow furrow deeply. "Huh. Let me look at your medical records for a minute." Doctor Martin carefully scanned Pax's records. "Something here isn't adding up," they muttered.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just… I'm curious as to the combination of diagnosis and medication here. I'm not in a position to evaluate you fully and to give you a new diagnosis, but the amount of medication you're being given for this Crohn's disease seems a bit high for what I would give to someone with the same diagnosis. And I've never seen a case of Crohn's that leave the patient this… emaciated, for lack of a better word. It's certainly possible that you're one of the lucky - or rather, unlucky – ones, but I wonder if the medication you've been given is exacerbating things."

"So, the medication that's supposed to be helping me is actually making things worse."

"It might be. I'm not sure, really. I'm just surprised at how poorly your body is responding to both the disease and the medication."

"But how could that possibly happen? Don't you have to, like, pass a test to be able to administer medication that says that you know how to administer medication?"

Dr. Martin sighed. "Medical technique has improved tremendously since the industry of Twelve shifted after the redistricting. Most medical personnel in the district who train and come out of Twelve are more skilled and better trained than those who trained before the specialization of Twelve. That's not saying that you had a bad doctor, but it's very likely that he was utilizing information that was in some way either outdated or incomplete. But this is, of course, conjecture on my part. Let me look into this some, do some research on your doctor and their certification, and I'll get back to you with my thoughts. We'll see if we can do some sort of new treatment program while you're here in the Capitol to maybe help you feel better and put on some weight and gain some strength." The nurse came back in with the blood test results. The doctor scanned the paper, then turned back to the nurse. "Do you have any blood left to run a test for ASCA and pANCA?"

"Nope."

"Draw another vial."

As the nurse drew another vial of blood, Pax was able to process what the doctor told her. She recognized that there were a lot of unknowns in this scenario, and everything in her wanted to keep calm and not get riled up about things. But it was really hard to stay calm! If Doctor Martin was right, then Pax's chances at entering the Games had been ruined by a less-than-competent doctor back home, everything she'd ever dreamed of stolen from her by an idiot. So no matter how hard she tried, Pax couldn't help but get herself worked up about this. As she got madder and madder, her logic got worse and worse, to the point where she placed the blame not on her doctor at home but on President Emerald, who had made her go see this doctor in the first place and who made the Events that took away her chance at the Games. By the time Dr. Martin was ready to let Pax go get ready for the Opening Banquet, the girl had made up her mind about how she was going to handle the Events.

The Events were her only shot at honor, so she couldn't be opposed to competing in them. But Pax wasn't going to play Ruby's games.

* * *

 **Well, here we have another chapter! I know this is a bit of a weird update time and date but this was the best I could do around the Jewish holidays.**

 **What do you think of the chapter? What is Pax going to do with this newfound ambiguity regarding her disease? What did you think about the relationship between Mina and Cam? What do you think about the new structure for the Events - what changes will it bring?**

 **Hopefully the next chapter will be up two weeks from today, as we get a glimpse at the Opening Banquet! I'm still debating whether or not it'll be all mentors, so stay tuned to find out!**

 **Till next time,**

 **goldie031**


	26. The Banquet, Part 1

_Chloe Antoni, 13  
District Two Mentor  
Victor of the First Events_

* * *

Arriving in the Capitol was one of Chloe's favorite things. Even though this was her third time riding in on a train, she was always excited to see the big buildings and bright colors emerge from the darkness of the tunnel. The Capitol had given her so much – her name, her identity, her fortune, Hestia – and she was always excited to return to the place that had freed her.

When the train pulled into the station, Hestia escorted Mack and Noel through the main doors of the train towards the Remake Center. Meanwhile, Arabelle and Hannibal led Myranda and Chloe out a side door towards a car that would take them directly to the Training Center where, as the mentors needed less "remaking," they would prepare for the banquet with their stylists. The team would reunite at the President's Mansion, where the banquet would be taking place.

When the District Two mentors arrived at the Training Center, they were swiftly escorted to their floor, where they had a quick lunch before splitting up to their respective quarters. Chloe was met by her stylist, Vivia. "Hi!" exclaimed Chloe excitedly, throwing her arms around Vivia.

"Hello, Chloe. How are you? I haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm good! I'm excited."

"To mentor?"

"Yeah! And to see everyone again."

"It's going to be a lot of fun! Are you ready to get ready?"

"Yep!"

After a bath, a deep shampooing, waxing (to Chloe's chagrin), some lotion and some tweezing, Chloe was ready to get dressed. Vivia helped Chloe put on a gaff, as she wasn't allowed to have gender reassignment surgery until she was eighteen, then a pair of tights and a leotard. Then, she instructed Chloe to close her eyes. The girl felt the weight of a dress fall on her, then leaned on Vivia's shoulder as her stylist helped her into a pair of higher heels than normal. "All right, open them!"

Chloe opened her eyes to find herself in a dress that was by far the most mature that Vivia had ever designed for her. The pale gold dress was floor-length and flowy, with red and darker gold swirls that snaked from their thickest point at the hem of the dress and tapered off as they approached the waist.

"I love it!" Chloe exclaimed. "But it's not poofy. And I thought I was gonna wear the black Victors' dress."

"Well, you're thirteen now. You need a more mature style than poofy dresses. And yeah, we were told that the Victors' outfits are for the Victory Balls and only Victory Balls. So we got to design something fun for you! Which is especially nice for the stylists who are styling competitors, because there are no chariot outfits to design this year."

"Why not?"

"The Opening Ceremonies are in Thirteen, not here. Now, stop talking so I can do your makeup."

Chloe sat as still as she could as Vivia did her makeup, giving the girl a natural look with a little tint of gold on her eyes and some glittery gold highlight. Then, Vivia put Chloe's hair into a bun and smoothed it down with a lot of hair gel. "I think you're ready to go! We'll do a few finishing touches when we get to the President's Mansion, including giving you your crown."

"OK!" Chloe, not used to walking in heels, followed Vivia to the elevator, which took them down to where the chariots would normally unload. Vivia helped Chloe into the limo, then got in next to her. As soon as the door closed and Chloe was buckled, the car sped up to the mansion.

Sitting in the limo, Chloe couldn't help but notice that her right leg was bouncing up and down, her heel hitting the floor with a loud click each time. Her heart was beating out of her chest – not faster than normal, she didn't think, but certainly harder than normal. Her throat felt tight like there was a lump in her throat restricting airflow, and she felt a pit building up in her stomach.

Chloe had felt nervous before. She felt nervous when the Academy rankings used to come out, knowing that her ability to identify as Chloe depended on her ranking highly. She felt nervous whenever she used to interact with her parents, honestly, because she was scared of their wrath if she disappointed them and anxious that they would misgender her, because they, of course, would. She felt nervous every day during the Victory Tour just thinking about the number of people watching her throughout the districts.

But not once in her life had Chloe ever really felt nervous like this. No, this was a whole new kind of nervous for Chloe, and she didn't really know how to handle it.

Chloe was so in her head that she didn't notice anything happening around her. Suddenly, she felt Vivia's hand on her back. "Chloe, what's up?"

Chloe shrugged. "Not much."

Vivia looked the girl up and down. "I feel like there's something that's making you nervous."

"What do you mean?"

"Chloe, we can hear the sound of your heel on the hardwood floor all the way down the hall. Usually, when someone bounces their leg like that it means you're nervous. What's making you nervous?"

Not wanting to keep a secret from Vivia, Chloe quietly replied, "Wins."

"What?"

"Wins. I'm nervous about seeing Wins."

"Aww," Vivia smiled, camouflaging the fact that she was feeling a similar set of nerves. "Why?"

"We haven't really seen each other since the Events last year," Chloe explained sheepishly. "I'm a bit… I'm a lot nervous that things are going to be different when we see each other. Like, I haven't really seen Wins since the Tour six months ago. What if Wins doesn't like me anymore?"

"Oh, Chloe. That's a completely normal fear to have."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Almost any emotion you could possibly feel at any moment is perfectly, perfectly normal. Almost any."

"Really?"

"Yes. Emotions are normal. Now, come on. We have to get ready for your entrance."

"Am I going down the stairs again?" Chloe asked excitedly. "I liked going down the stairs during the Victory Ball."

"I don't know. Let's go find out!"

* * *

 _Cam Cambria, 12  
District Twelve_

* * *

Cam could not stop smiling.

From the moment that she was announced as a competitor, everything in her life had looked up. She was officially literally untouchable by their parents; her mentors had made it clear that any indication of injury caused by Cam's parents would lead to significant consequences, and by some miracle, her parents had obliged. And she could even let their words mostly roll off of her now that she would hopefully never have to deal with them again after the Events. But it wasn't until Cam was walking to the Justice Building for the send-off ceremony that the excitement inside of her bubbled up into a big smile.

And that smile had literally not left her face since. In fact, if possible, it only grew bigger as Cam was exposed to new experience after new experience. Arriving in the Capitol was one of the most magical moments of her young life; something about seeing the bright, tall buildings and the colorful and kind of crazy people entranced the young girl. She even enjoyed walking down the path of Capitolites from the train station to the Remake Center, despite the bright camera flashes and loud cheering, because it was just so incredible to be around people who were excited to see her! The idea that someone could be excited to see her was a brand-new feeling for Cam, and she kind of liked it. It was overwhelming, sure, especially when there were so many people who were yelling and screaming for her, but it felt so nice that people were simply paying attention to her.

Her parents and peers in Twelve never paid any attention to her.

As Cam stood in front of the doors to the ballroom, twisting back and forth so she could see her pretty dress twirl around and attempting to balance on her white leather kitten heels (she'd never worn heels before), Cam couldn't help but feel like a new person. The Events were giving her a fresh start in life, away from her parents who had put her down and treated her like nothing. All the time she'd spent insisting that everything would get better had finally manifested an actual better life for the girl.

But there was a small part of Cam that was both nervous and confused. She had spent so much time just trying to get by and to keep a happy attitude that something in her told her that she didn't actually know who she was yet. Her parents had never encouraged any of her hobbies, never guided her to explore the different ways that one could express themself. She'd never formed a close enough relationship with anybody to know her romantic orientation or sexuality or how to figure out those things. And while Cam knew that she had some time to figure this stuff out, she also had a feeling that the Events would be a perfect time to explore herself and to figure out who she was.

Cam heard the sound of heels approaching her, and she turned around to find Mina approaching her, looking like a more grown-up version of Cam. Both girls were wearing pale pink dresses, with a pink lace overlay patterned with hearts, a subtle reference to their district value; while Cam's only reached her knees, Mina's went all the way to the floor. They each had white heels, though Mina's were about two inches taller than Cam's, putting a solid foot between the two girls in height. Mina had some silk ribbons that matched her dress woven through her long, dark brown hair, matching the headband that perfectly accentuated Cam's light brown pixie cut. The girls also had matching masks, the same pale pink as their dresses with little heart accents on the corners and tied with the same pink ribbons that were in their hair.

When she saw Mina, Cam ran over and gave her a big, tight hug; Mina was more like a parent to Cam than her parents ever were, and Cam would be forever grateful to Mina for truly caring for her. But Mina was also such a role model for Cam. The older girl was so sure of who she was and what she wanted to be; Cam could only hope to learn from her. "You look so pretty!" Cam exclaimed.

"You look lovely as well, Cam," replied Mina, returning the younger girl's hug. "Are you excited for the banquet?"

"Yeah," Cam replied, a big smile etched into her face. "It's gonna be a lot of fun!"

After a moment, the girls were joined by the rest of the District Twelve team. Evelynne, Twelve's escort and a third-generation Trinket, and Sharen were also dressed in pale pink dresses with a heart lace overlay, while Asha wore a pale pink pantsuit with a heart lace trim. They were quickly arranged in front of the doors, and at some invisible signal, the doors were flung open, allowing the Twelve team to enter the ballroom. Cam was stunned by how gorgeous the ballroom was; she'd never seen a room so opulent, so elegant, so lovely in her entire life. The rich reds and warm golds made the room feel comfortable and homey, despite its size and grandeur.

After taking in the room, Cam began to analyze the other competitors. Very quickly, she found herself focusing on one particular competitor, and for good reason.

The girl from Four was _gorgeous_.

Tall and tan, the girl was unlike anyone Cam had ever seen in Twelve. She was even surprised to find herself attracted to the shape of the older girl's body, to her curves and the tone of her muscles. Never in her life had Cam looked at someone's body and been struck by it, and certainly, she had never attracted to any person because of how they looked. It was weird, something that Cam wasn't used to. She couldn't decide if she liked it or if she didn't, and it honestly kind of scared her to feel that kind of new emotion. Cam broke off her stare, desperate to focus on something, anything else to get her mind off of that girl, at whom Cam looked in a way that was unlike how she'd looked at any other person before.

When Cam glanced to the side, she noticed that Mina was looking at the girl from Four too. And while Cam was a bit confused by what she saw, Mina had the very clear expression who was head over heels in love with someone: wide eyes, jaw dropped, mouth so open that an entire beehive could fit inside. Cam snuck over to Mina and pushed on her chin, trying to help Mina close her mouth so that she wouldn't look like a fishnet on camera, but every time that Cam got the bottom part of the jaw to touch the top part, it just fell down limply again. Cam smiled a small smile. If Mina wanted to pursue the girl from Four, she could absolutely have her.

The other girl was much too old for Cam anyway.

* * *

 _Ramona Wayland, 14  
District Ten Mentor  
Competitor in the First Events_

* * *

When she arrived at the President's Mansion, Ramona was escorted into the District Ten team's prep room, where the stylists could put finishing touches on the competitors and mentors before their entrance into the ballroom. Of the whole team, Ramona was the last to arrive, which made sense to her, as she was basically the only female mentoring. Zolt was also a woman, but she only half-counted as a mentor. Either way, Zolt was a Victor, which meant that her stylist kept up her appearance more frequently; Ramona, who was just an Events mentor, had to start from close to scratch when she arrived in the Capitol, which made her process take longer than the guys'.

But all of the time it took for Ramona to get ready was worth it, as Ramona was in love with her outfit. Her stylist had taken inspiration from a majestic animal called a peacock that Ramona, who grew up in the district that raised animals, had never seen: a peacock. The strapless dress went from teal on the top to a pretty purple on the bottom, and both its hem and neckline were lined with peacock feathers. Her makeup paid homage to the color palette, with a teal, blue, and purple eyeshadow look, and her updo featured a few peacock feathers stuck here and there. Even with just that, Ramona would have been overjoyed with her look, but there was apparently one more piece to complete the outfit that was waiting for her at the mansion.

"About time you arrived," Kitt gibed.

"Hey. It's not my fault we had to do hair and make-up." _And wax my whole body, and moisturize to make my skin look soft, and…_

"Ramona!" called her stylist, Seutonia, hands behind her back. "Come here! I have your last accessory."

As quickly as she could in her heels, Ramona made her way over to her stylist. "What is it?"

Seutonia took her hands out from behind her back. In them was a gorgeous, bright blue and purple ombre mask with gold accents, and a trio of peacock feathers coming out from the left side. "The theme of the banquet this year is Masquerade," Seutonia explained, "so you cannot take off the mask until after you leave the ballroom at the end of the night." After giving Ramona a few moments to look at the mask, she carefully stretched the elastic and slid the mask onto Ramona's head. "There you go. What do you think?"

"I love it."

At that moment, a Capitolite dressed in a simple black suit entered the room. "Hello, District Ten! Are you almost ready to go?" Looking around, Kira Mazda, Ten's escort, nodded on behalf of the team. "Great! Let's have everyone gather over by these doors and I'll arrange you, and then when you're ready, I'll get approval from Portia and you'll make your entrance."

"Are we not going down the stairs?" asked Ramona.

"No, we're reserving the stairs entrance for the Victory Balls." The Capitolite arranged the team from Ten in the appropriate order, competitors in front, then mentors, then Kira and Zolt, then pressed a button on the earpiece she was wearing. "All right, we're ready to go." The doors in front of them opened as a pleasant-sounding voice announced, "Presenting the team from District Ten."

The District Ten team entered the ballroom to a smattering of light applause as the doors closed behind them. Ramona didn't exactly know what to do next. There was a circle of fourteen tables in the middle of the room, with more circular tables surrounding them, but even with the space in the middle of the circle, it didn't seem as though there would be formal dancing like there was during the Victory Ball. Rather than wander aimlessly, she followed Kitt over to the designated table for District Ten, where she found a nice plated salad waiting for her on her plate. Realizing she was hungry, Ramona carefully sat in her chair and began to eat.

"Presenting the team from District Eleven."

As she ate, Ramona took some time to observe what else was happening in the ballroom. While it was hard to tell who was who because of the masks, the teams were entering the ballroom in district order, and the tables seemed to be in district order, which helped. Ramona's eye was drawn first to the District One and District Two tables, where Chloe and Winsley had conveniently positioned themselves so they were sitting back to back, so they could talk even while sitting at different tables. The two had clearly picked up where they left off after the First Events, and while Ramona couldn't see their eyes, their body language clearly indicated that they were just as in love as they once were. It warmed Ramona's heart.

Until Ramona looked to her right and locked eyes with Alexei.

Instantly, Ramona looked away, averting her eyes from Alexei's gaze. Since the Events, Alexei had been sending her letters rather frequently, but Ramona had thrown every one of them out. She didn't need to stay friends with a boy who had broken her heart. She'd even made a point of avoiding him altogether when he was home over the summer.

And yet, Ramona felt a nagging feeling every now and then that she'd messed up. That there was something to be had with Alexei, some relationship to salvage or friendship to find in the muck of their relationship over the previous year. And as she looked back towards Chloe and Winsley, two kids her age who had somehow managed to make a relationship work, even from separate districts, her hunch that she had lost something got even stronger.

Even if her hunch was right, though, she was in way too deep in the whole avoid Alexei thing. A part of her was too stubborn to go back on her word now, after spending a whole year avoiding the boy. His heart was probably just as broken as hers had been the year before when he had… well, in retrospect, he hadn't dumped her. He'd just said that he thought they'd be better as friends.

Maybe she had overreacted.

Ramona shook her head. These were just strong emotions she was feeling after not having seen Alexei for almost a year, like putting on an old dress for the first time. Focusing too much on what exactly their relationship was would ruin the fun of the banquet and of the Events, so it was better to just put thoughts of Alexei in the back of her mind.

This was a problem she could handle tomorrow.

* * *

 **Alternate title for this chapter: cute smol beans being cute smol beans.  
Alternate alternate title for this chapter: everyone is in love.**

 **Well, it's been a little bit XD. School has been nuts this semester, and I wanted to wait to upload a banquet chapter until I finished all the POVs so I could decide how exactly to split the POVs between chapters, whether to do this or to put three mentor POVs in this chapter and three competitor POVs in the next one. But here we have the first three! I figured that, for lots of thematic reasons, these POVs all fit together really nicely. I don't have any particularly specific questions so I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **We'll see some actual action from inside the Banquet next chapter from Liana, April, and Kiyo, not necessarily in that order, and we'll start to see some interactions between competitors! My advice: read the next chapter very carefully and pay attention to the little details. I'm curious to see how much y'all will pick up before I ask my pointed questions at the end like I always do.**

 **With that, I'll see you all either next week or the week after (depending on how I'm feeling next week) with the second part of the banquet!**

 **-goldie031**


	27. The Banquet, Part 2

**Trigger Warning: mentions of eating disorder and self-hatred in April's POV. Also, don't forget to pay careful attention to every detail in this chapter…**

* * *

 _Liana Klepper, 17  
District Ten Mentor  
Competitor in the First Events_

* * *

Liana was stressed.

She was stressed, first of all, on a personal level. Liana was not ready to see Myranda, not in the slightest. Everything that had happened in the past twelve months had freaked Liana out tremendously. She knew that even if Dania Lidano was only Myranda's trainer, that didn't mean Dania would ever interact with her mother. But she was still scared that she would say something wrong, putting her life and maybe even her parents' relationship on the line.

Most importantly, though, she was worried about jeopardizing the entire operation and, by extension, Ruby's entire presidency. While she and President Emerald did not have a perfect relationship, the two were much closer than they had been at the end of the Events. Liana better understood just how complex the job of the president was, and how much her great-aunt-in-law wanted to do for the country but how complicated it was for her to do so. The last thing she wanted was to, in some way, mess up everything that Ruby had worked for for basically her whole presidency. So while she wasn't the president's best friend, Liana also didn't want to be the reason that Ruby's presidency went up in smoke. All of that made talking to Myranda and forming a serious relationship with her very, very complicated.

Not wanting to deal with the Myranda situation yet, Liana decided to try to deal with the other thing that was stressing her out: her job. Because of Ruby's paranoia about other people finding out about her secret operation, she was adamant about there being no way to track, on paper or through any digital platform, anyone who was involved with the organization. So while they all had tablets and webcams that they could use to communicate with the Capitol, nobody could use any names. The rescued tributes had been told that there would be a leadership transition, but that they would be told about it in person. With twelve former tributes serving as Events escorts, Liana now needed to find all of them and tell them that she was now taking over all without anybody else finding out that she was taking over, a task that she was hoping to complete by the end of the night so Ruby would get off her back. Easy enough, in theory.

Except that the theme of the banquet was masquerade. Which meant that everyone would be masked.

Fortunately, Liana had a plan to make her job as easy as possible. While she and Sage Davidson, who was both mentoring and serving as escort for Eight, were far from close friends in the Events, they at least had a clear connection with each other. It would be much less weird to approach him out of the blue than the other escorts, and as Eight and Nine were at tables right next to each other, Liana could easily listen in to Eight's conversation until she heard Sage's voice. Once she figured out who Sage was, Liana walked over to his chair and tapped Sage on the shoulder. "Hi, Sage!"

"I'm not Sage," said the person who turned around. "I'm Jack."

"Oh," Liana replied, embarrassed.

"I'm Sage," the person sitting across from Jack replied. "Hey, Liana! How have you been? How was your year?"

"I've been good! How about you?"

"Doing well."

"I have a question for you. Do you know who the escort is for District Fourteen?"

Sage raised his eyebrows. "Let's talk on the side." The two got up and made their way over to the wall where they could talk as privately as possible. "So you're taking over, huh?"

"Yep."

"How'd you get that gig?"

"Long story, my friend. A very long story. We can, and should, talk in a less public setting, but I need your help."

"What's up?"

"I don't know how to identify the other escorts. I've never seen most of them, Ruby won't send me pictures for security reasons, and even if I had pictures, they've probably all had alterations. Can you help me?"

Sage nodded, understanding Ruby's neuroses very well. "Sure. What order do you want to go in?"

Liana breathed a sigh of relief. "Whoever we find," she replied. "I want to do this as quickly as possible so I don't have to deal with it later."

"Gotcha. I take it you already talked to your escort?"

"Yeah, we discussed matters on the train." Liana gave a wave to Tzipora, who shyly waved back.

"OK. I know where we can start." Liana followed Sage over towards the Career districts' section of the ballroom. Sage approached a person with shoulder-length blonde hair who was wearing an obnoxious all gold suit and matching mask. "Hi, everyone! Can I borrow Amos for a sec? Escort stuff."

"Sure. I'll be back, guys." Amos followed Sage and Liana over to the side of the room. "What's up?"

"Amos, this is Liana Klepper. She's the new escort for District Fourteen."

Amos nodded quietly. "Amos Nardelli. It's nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you as well. I've been instructed to deliver a message to you, Amos, from the President."

"Go for it."

"Ruby wants me to tell you that under no circumstance are you allowed to visit the District Seven floor. If you need to interact with anyone on that team for escorting purposes, you can have them visit your floor, but the competitors from Seven are not allowed to interact with you at all. I know it may complicate things, but I'm sure you can understand that we need to do what we can to keep the secret of our operation and protect everyone involved with it."

Amos nodded. "I understand. Oksana being chosen is a rather complicated situation what with my position as an escort, but I'll do what I can to make sure that nothing is jeopardized."

"And I'll do what I can to help you out as well. It's nice to meet you, Amos."

"You too, Liana. Who are you looking for next?"

"Anyone we can find," replied Liana.

"Well," Amos said, "I think Hestia is over there in that red dress. See the adult talking to Chloe?"

Sage and Liana looked over towards the area of the District Two table. "Which one is Chloe?"

"The kid wearing the crown, I think. Next to that other younger kid from One."

"Oh, that's Wins!" exclaimed Sage. "See the prosthetics?"

"I see," replied Liana. "Was she Cinder?"

"Yes," Amos explained. "I bet she can direct you to someone else. Good luck, you guys!"

"Thanks," Liana replied, "We're going to need it."

* * *

 _April Salinger, 18  
District Eleven_

* * *

This was a lot.

April was tremendously overwhelmed by all of… all of this. Just a few weeks before, she was a simple girl in Eleven who maybe had some struggles, but she was doing fine. Really, she was fine! And now she had been somehow thrust into the national spotlight, in such a way that had placed a label on her that she didn't think she merited. Perseverance was a big word, fit for people who grew up in lower classes who had spent their whole lives toiling away in the field, or for orphans who had lost both parents and who had no home, or for someone who had come back from something disastrous and life-threatening like Xayah had. April was just an average, middle-class girl. The Events didn't seem to be the place for an average, middle-class girl.

They certainly weren't the place for April.

On top of her imposter syndrome, April couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She knew, subconsciously, that she was being filmed most of the time, and that there were probably even cameras here at the banquet. Every single thing that April did would be analyzed and scrutinized by every single Capitolite like she was being watched under a human-sized microscope. And if there was one thing that April hated more than anything, it was feeling like people were watching and judging her. Everything in her wanted to just run away, to find somewhere else to be where other people weren't. Where she could be by herself, without the pressure of hundreds of pairs of eyes boring into her soul.

She just wanted to run away.

And yet, for the first time, April felt something… something new, deep down in her stomach. It wasn't the normal dull pit that she felt when she was anxious. This one was more like a little tiny little flame, slowly burning through that larger pit of dread. It was something that she wasn't used to feeling; not happiness, not sadness, not frustration or excitement (in the moments when she was excited). No, this was a teeny tiny little bit of motivation. Even if she didn't feel like she was the right choice, even if she couldn't help but doubt that she was a perseverant person, even if everything about this experience made her feel uncomfortable, that little flicker of motivation reminded April that she wasn't just doing this for herself; she was doing it for her entire district. And she genuinely wanted to do her district proud.

But how could she do that when she felt so uncomfortable, so overwhelmed, so inferior? How could she listen to her mentors and her escort, who insisted that the most important thing was taking care of herself but couldn't camouflage the fact that of equal or even greater importance was to pull out a win for District Eleven? But those two things were difficult to do at the same time. What was best for the district was to mingle with the Capitolites here at the banquet, to play along with the narrative that the district had established for her by labeling her as "perseverant." But what she wanted was to melt into the floor, to escape from this place where a plain girl like April just didn't belong.

The more that April thought about how much she didn't belong, and how unworthy she felt in the presence of all of the other competitors who fit their district values so much better than she did, the more she felt like she was drowning, like she was being pulled under the water by the waves, like her chest was tightening and tightening and constricting and constricting and like there was no more oxygen and like she was losing her ability to breathe and…

"April!" The voice of her mentor, Mallory, snapped April out of her stupor. "Are you OK?"

April looked into Mallory's wide, concerned eyes. "I… yes, I'm OK."

Mallory's brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"

April reached down to finger her anklet, a citrine anklet that was once her mother's. She liked jewelry; it was one of the few things that still brought her joy. "Yes. I'm sure." Everything in April wanted to trust Mallory, to tell her that everything was not fine. But Mallory was just too positive, too happy for someone who had endured almost as bad of a childhood as April had, if not worse. There was no way she could truly understand April's mindset, how hard it was to look at yourself in a mirror and just see flabs and flabs of skin piling on top of each other.

"All right," replied Mallory, not wanting to push April too hard. "If you need anything, or want to talk, I'm here for you. Have you eaten anything yet?"

"A little."

"OK. Make sure you have what your dietician said you should have, yeah? And if you don't want to talk or dance with other people, that's totally fine, but maybe take some time to look at the other competitors and see if anyone catches your eye."

"Sounds good."

"And a little tip – if you're feeling overwhelmed, try to focus on something that you know you like around you, that you can hold on to when you're feeling stressed or overwhelmed." Mallory gave April a squeeze on her shoulder before leaving the girl to go mingle.

April took a deep breath and began to scan the room. Her eye was drawn to the girl from One, who was, like April, sitting on the side, not engaging with anyone either but seeming more upset than afraid. April remembered her from watching the Drawings. She was the girl with the Crohn's disease, who looked so skinny, almost like a skeleton. A small part of April pitied the girl, but another small part of April envied her.

What she wouldn't give to be skinny like that!

As April continued to scan the room, she noticed that the pink-haired girl from the Capitol was looking at her. The two girls locked eyes, then both girls looked away, April's mind racing. Why was that girl looking at her? What did she think of her? Did she think April was fat? Did she think April didn't fit with the rest of the competitors? If she was from the Capitol, which oversaw the Events, could she get April kicked out of the Events? If April could tell that she didn't belong, surely the other competitors could tell as well… April found herself overwhelmed again by the avalanche of self-deprecating thoughts coursing through her mind. Hearing Mallory's voice in her head, April grabbed hold of her anklet again and began to twirl it around her wrist, trying desperately to use Mallory's trick to keep herself grounded, to keep the waves from crashing over her until she was pulled back underwater.

How was she going to make it through the Events?

* * *

 _Kiyo, 17  
District Five_

* * *

It might surprise some to learn that Kiyo was not particularly intimidated by large crowds. Sure, they didn't love being the center of attention. But Kiyo really didn't mind being around a lot of people, provided that they were able to stay on the side and let other people take the spotlight; they much preferred to stay in the shadows, so to speak, and watch.

Fortunately, there were many other competitors who were more willing to take the spotlight, which enabled Kiyo to sit back and observe, precisely what they did best.

One could learn so much about one's competition by simply watching them.

Kiyo scanned the room, their eyes falling on what they assumed were the boys from District Thirteen, or at least that's what they thought based on the boys' outfits. The pair were dressed in almost identical black suits, the only difference being the subtly embroidered pattern; one of their suits was embroidered with otters, while the other was embroidered with falcons. The masks even corresponded; Otter Suit was wearing an otter mask, while Falcon Suit was wearing a falcon mask. This was, hopefully, a clever ploy by the District Thirteen stylists to help the audience distinguish between Atticus Peregrine and Atticus Otterson and not a cruel trick indicated to further confuse the audience, especially because Peregrine and Otterson were only a couple of inches different in height and had similar body types.

Studying the boys for a moment more confirmed to Kiyo that Thirteen had dressed each boy in his corresponding animal; the Atticus in the falcon suit was incredibly stiff, moving his arms and legs in a regimented way and barely able to hold himself back from saluting everyone he met. Meanwhile, the Atticus in the otter suit was much more vibrant, confidently striding around the room and interacting with the Capitolites, even occasionally pulling out his vlog camera. Kiyo assumed that Otterson had moved into Thirteen at some point, just like many other citizens of Thirteen, so it wouldn't surprise them if Otterson had moved from the Capitol to Thirteen and therefore knew some of the people at the ball from his youth.

 _The pair from Thirteen are an interesting duo,_ Kiyo mused, _almost complete opposites of each other. But how well will they perform as a pair?_

Having gleaned what he could just by watching the pair, there was no point in dwelling on them; Kiyo filed away what he noticed about Thirteen and continued to scan the room. This would be one of the only times that everyone was together before the Events started, so it was almost crucial for Kiyo to get as much information as they could about as many competitors as they could. Kiyo knew they weren't the strongest or most engaging or most well-liked person, so their ability to read other people and glean information from that was crucial for their success in the Games.

As Kiyo continued to scan the room, they realized the problem with their strategy: with everyone masked, it was somewhat hard to tell who was a competitor. Some people were easy to rule out – Kiyo knew that none of the competitors had green or purple hands, for example – but generally, Kiyo was struggling to figure out which information to keep in their head and which information to discard. As Kiyo continued to scan the room, they noticed that many of the outfits related in some way to the district theme. This was a good clue, but not failsafe; there were at least twenty-five people wearing hearts and thirteen wearing animal prints, but only five people each on the Ten and Twelve teams.

Kiyo's eyes were drawn to a man in an absurd golden suit, who was standing and talking with a group of people almost directly across the room from where Kiyo was sitting. Kiyo recognized their escort, Merik, standing among them from his black suit with LED lights woven in that matched Kiyo's. They conjectured that Merik was talking to a group of other escorts, and immediately began to think about who the other escorts were. The person in the golden suit was definitely the Capitol escort; only someone from the Capitol would dress in that much gold. Kiyo assumed that the escort in the forest green suit with a subtle pattern of branches was from District Seven, especially considering that their mask looked like it was woven from thin branches with bright colored leaves peeking out from between the branches. The last escort in the group was harder to tell; Kiyo couldn't decide if he was from Nine or Three. His suit was black with some sort of golden pinstripe and his tie was yellow, but there was a pattern of grain stalks around the bottom edge of the jacket. Suddenly, it came to Kiyo – that must be Andrew Chaff! Andrew was the Three escort, hence the yellow, but his last name was Chaff because he traced his origin to pre-Restructuring Nine, hence the grain. That made a lot of sense.

It also meant Kiyo's guess on the other two people was probably right.

Having figured out which escort was which, if the four people talking were escorts, Kiyo continued to scan the room, eventually noticing a very interesting conversation taking place in the corner between a person in a golden suit like that of the Capitol escort, and a person in a purple dress with little pom-poms on the hem that gave off the impression of grapes who was probably from Eleven. It wasn't the fact that two competitors from such different districts were talking that caught Kiyo off-guard; the whole point of the Events was to get to know other competitors. No, what alarmed Kiyo a bit was the fact that the two were not communicating verbally. Instead, they were signing to each other. Kiyo knew a limited amount of sign language from occasionally impersonating someone deaf, but not enough to converse as fluently as these two were. Knowing that they had forged such a fast connection made Kiyo a bit nervous. If they both knew a method of communication that nobody else could understand, that could be tremendously dangerous for everyone else. And if they couldn't communicate in a traditional manner, it would be very hard to approach either of them and form connections with them, which could isolate that pair more.

Kiyo had to keep an eye on them.

Of course, they weren't exactly sure who the people in those outfits were. And for all Kiyo knew, neither was a competitor. But any information they could glean was good information, Kiyo thought.

Filing away what they knew about the pair, Kiyo continued to scan the room, hoping to gather as much information as they could before the night ended.

One could learn so much about one's competition by simply watching them.

* * *

 **Lots to digest in this chapter! What does everyone think about the slowly advancing plot? I don't really want to give leading questions this time but please make your reviews super detailed; I'd love to hear everyone's conspiracy theories, so to speak. I'll say there are at least three Easter eggs in the chapter, and that at least two of them of them relate to people who are not named in that moment ;).**

 **Next chapter will hopefully be up within two weeks or so; college is a lot and I have many final papers. The next chapter is going to be rules and color selection, so we'll get a lot of information about the Events from that chapter! The entire chapter will be from Noel's POV, so while Noel may end up with like a 3.5k POV while everyone else's is 1k, a lot of it is just business and boring logistics so I think it's fine. Someone else might also have a POV there but I'm not sure how the chapter will flow that way. If not, that someone else will have a POV in the free day chapters, of which there will be three.**

 **I think that's all for now. I'll see everyone in the next chapter!**

 **-goldie031**


	28. Rules and Color Selection

_Noel Patterson, 18  
District Two_

* * *

Noel was not having a good time.

It wasn't so much that the banquet wasn't fun. In another circumstance, such as, you know, the Games, a ball like this might be a lot of fun, getting to talk to Capitolites about the glory of the Capitol and the Games and all that. Instead, here they were, stuck in the Events. And even worse, they were stuck in the Events with Sigmund Roost.

Sigmund. Fucking. Roost.

It was because of the Roosts that Noel was here. If Jade had never fallen in love with that Penelope girl, and he hadn't gotten her knocked up somehow, Jade would never have dropped out of training, which would have prevented Noel's social tailspin, kept their anger in check, and ensured that they would be the volunteer for the Games, bringing honor and glory to Two. Instead, Noel was here, watching all of these Capitolites and so-called competitors mill about the room and somehow glorify the Capitol through this inferior challenge, if one could even call it that. There was nothing challenging about running around and finding clothing in a mall, and did it really matter if the heart necklace was an aquamarine or a blue topaz? No. No it did not.

Everything was just a load of bullshit.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the banquet was over. Noel could finally get some peace and quiet and not have to deal with any of this stupidity for at least a full day. Or at least, so they thought.

"Good evening, everyone. I hope you enjoyed your time at the Opening Banquet. We'd like to ask all of the competitors and mentors to please make their way up the grand staircase, where you'll be guided into a room to go over the rules of the Events and for color selection. Stylists and those escorts who are not also acting as mentors, please go to the double doors opposite the grand staircase to be transported back to the Training Center to prepare for the arrival of your competitors. Everyone else, please begin to make your way out of one of the other exits. Have a lovely night, and get home safe."

Noel rolled their eyes. They didn't even want to deal with the Events; why did they have to sit through a long presentation about the rules and regulations of a thing they didn't even want to participate in? They knew the answer, of course. Despite Noel's deep displeasure with being a part of the Events, they still wanted to win, because they were a competitive person. The last thing Noel wanted to do was lose to some puny Outer District shrimp, least of all to Sigmund. And if Noel was going to try to win, they figured they would at least try to do so within the rules. Stories of what happened to Aviel after the First Events ran rampant in Two; if Noel did what Aviel did, it would probably be an even greater social tailspin than he'd dealt with after the whole Jade mess. They had to win with the honor and dignity that District Two was known for, not in the dishonorable way that only an Outer District competitor could come up with. So, begrudgingly, they followed the rest of the competitors to the grand staircase, just barely ready to sit through color selection.

When they arrived, Noel scanned the room to find their seat at the big round table in the center of the room. They quickly found their seat, which was in between Mack and the boy from One, who was absent-mindedly running his hand over a particular spot on the back of his head and murmuring, "My rat tail." Rolling his eyes, Noel yanked their chair out from under the table and plopped down in it with a big sigh, picking up the tablet that was sitting in front of him and beginning to fiddle with it. After a few more minutes, the rest of the competitors and their mentors filtered in, the competitors sitting next to their district partners with the older competitor to the left of the younger, and each mentor sitting behind their competitor. Once everyone was set, Violet entered the room along with a person that Noel didn't recognize. The two took their seats between Titania and Atticus Peregrine. After sorting out some papers, Violet began.

"Good evening everybody. I hope you had an enjoyable time at the Banquet tonight. We have two things to discuss tonight, going through the structure of the Events themselves first and then the color selection process. I want to introduce you all to Soorim Callahan, who is acting as Head Gamemaker for these Events as the Gamemaker on the Events team from Thirteen. Soorim will be taking the lead in this meeting and explaining the process of these Events, but feel free to also approach me if you have any questions as we've been working together in preparation. I'll be taking over again when it becomes time for color selection in a bit. Soorim?"

"Thank you, Violet. Hi, everybody. As Violet said, my name is Soorim, and I've had a lot of fun working to prepare these Events for you all! We've been working rather hard to prepare these Events for you and we're excited for you to get to participate in them. We know that you're all probably overwhelmed and tired, so we're just going to review the broad strokes of the Events now, and as these issues become relevant once the Events begin, we'll go into more specifics on each competition or element of the Events. And some things you'll simply find out in due course. Now, you should have been told by your mentors this morning on the train the overall structure of the next few days. If you have not, feel free to either stay back or ask your mentors after we go through the Events themselves and do the color selection process. Your mentors should also be keeping you updated on the pre-Events schedule day to day so feel free to ask them if you have questions.

"Now, onto the Events themselves. The Events this year have one key, significant difference from the Events last year: every night of the Events, there will be one elimination. This means that the Events will be thirteen days long rather than fourteen days, as by the end of the thirteenth day, there will only be one pair left. Most days, there will be two competitions, and each day's competitions will connect directly to one of the district values one of your districts was assigned. Everybody will compete in the first competition of the day, which will be in the morning. Then, the winners of the first competition will select one team to participate in the evening elimination challenge. The other competitors in the elimination challenge will be the least popular team among the Capitolites. Those two teams will go head to head in the second competition of the day. Winners stay in, losers return to the Capitol and are out. Does this make sense to everyone? What are people's questions?"

The girl from Six raised her hand. "Will people that have the represented value be at an advantage on that day of competition?"

"No, people who have the represented value will not be placed at an advantage. Anything else?"

The woman sitting behind the girl from Three raised her hand. "Will we know which order the competitions will come in?"

"No," Soorim replied. "Any other questions? Good. As more information becomes relevant or important, it will be conveyed to you. I'll turn it back over to Violet for color selection."

"Thank you, Soorim. Now, because you are competing in pairs this year, your district colors will be used for a significant proportion of the competitions. However, there may also be some competitions where you will be competing individually, and for those, we'll be using your individual colors.

"If you turn over your tablets, you'll see a number. This represents the order you'll be picking in. This year, you'll be choosing your colors in order of how your mentors placed in the Events last year. So Mack, as your mentor, Chloe, won last year, you will get to choose first this year. If you are not being mentored by a competitor from last year's Events, you've been placed in the opposite spot as your district partner's mentor was. I think the best example of this is District Twelve. Mina is being mentored by Sharen, so Mina will pick in Sharen's slot, which is 24th. Even though Alder is not mentoring Cam, she will be taking Alder's slot, which was 18th. Does everyone understand?

"Excellent. Now, just like last year, we are looking for colors that are different from each other, so that we can all easily differentiate whose is whose. Because we are relying on district colors a bit more this year, they don't need to be quite as different as we needed last year, but we're still looking for the colors to be distinguishable from each other. On your tablet, you'll select a color and send it over to mine to be checked. We'll tweak it if we need to, and then once your color is approved, we'll move on to the next competitor. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves in a quiet tone when it's not your turn, but pay attention to the names I call, and please have a few color options picked out so we can move quickly.

"If there are no questions, let's begin with Mack!"

"So, I can basically pick whatever I want, right?"

"Yes, yes you can," replied Violet.

Noel watched his district partner play around on his tablet until settling on a bright purple color. "I like this one," Mack smiled.

"Looks good to me! Next up, Atticus. Peregrine. Atticus P."

As the color selection process continued, Noel found themself tuning out, instead taking the time to scout out his competition a little bit. Most of the competitors were either sitting quietly, playing around on their tablets to choose their own colors, or talking quietly with their district partners. A few of them were even beginning to converse with competitors from other districts. But Noel's attention was drawn to the girl from One. She was the only person they saw who wasn't also excited, or even a little bit happy, to be in the Capitol, a deep scowl plastered on her face. It seemed as though she was upset and bored, like there were hundreds of other places she would rather be. Just like…

"Noel!"

Noel snapped to attention. "Yes?"

"Your turn."

"Oh." Noel turned on his tablet and looked at the color wheel displayed on the screen. "Has anyone chosen red yet?"

"What kind of red?"

"A bright red. Like the kind of red you think of when you think of red."

"Ah. Like this one?" Violet beamed a specific red color over to Noel's tablet. "It's basically primary red."

Noel shrugged. "Sure."

"Awesome. Pax Altomare?"

The boy from One broke off of his conversation with… seemingly himself and began the process of picking his color. Noel tried to get back on their train of thought from before they picked their color, but before he could, he found himself listening in to a conversation between his district partner and the girl from Four.

"What's the biggest dare you would do?" asked Mack.

"Honestly, there's very little I wouldn't do."

"Even something that would affect your chances of winning the Games?"

"Hm, I don't know. A part of me wouldn't want to hurt Augustus's chances. But at the same time, I never met a dare I didn't like.

A twinkle formed in Mack's eye, as if he was working on testing the waters. "What if I were to dare you to… pick a color for color selection?"

The girl leaned back in her chair and folded her arms into her chest. "I'm picking 23rd. Dare. Me."

Mack leaned in towards the girl. "Poop brown."

"You're on."

Noel rolled their eyes and crossed his legs. Of all the things for his district partner to focus on, why would Mack be focusing on the color selection colors? It was more useful to work on scouting out the competition, or something like that. They needed to know how to eliminate their competitors, not how to make friends with their competitors.

Suddenly, a thought crossed Noel's mind. If the first-place team got to choose who would be in the elimination challenge…

And if certain teams were known for being stronger than others…

And if someone else was clearly not thrilled about being in the Capitol for the Events, and that person was from a Career district…

An idea began to form in Noel's mind. A very familiar way to play the game, and a way to guarantee that he had control of at least half of every elimination.

* * *

 **Finally, another chapter! Sorry for the delay, friends - school has been a lot this semester. But we're so close to the end of the semester (I have less than a week) at which point we're back to stockpiling!**

 **I feel like I say this every chapter but I really think we've hit the point at which the Events are gonna pick up! What do you all think Noel is planning? Will it work? Also, what questions do you have about the Events?**

 **I decided this time around not to show all of the colors in this chapter, but if you look at the cover of the story (when the site decides to update it) you'll see the colors there; the competitors' names are in their color and the background is their district color. Lauren will also be adding the colors to the blog (idide2 . weebly . com)! So you'll get to see all the colors in all their glory.**

 **We've also made it to the second check-in point! For this check-in, it's going to be the same deal as the last time: same link, same procedure, just a different word. Let's use... purple (thanks Dreamer XD)!**

 **The story is just picking up now! I'll see you hopefully next week with another chapter!**

 **-goldie031**


	29. The First Night

_Oksana Devlin, 14  
District Seven_

* * *

"And finally, Berk."

"Somehow, nobody has primary blue, right?"

"I think you're right."

"I'll take that, then."

"Amazing. And with that, we've completed the color selection process! Well done, everyone. At this point, it's time to head back to the Training Center for the night. We'll be sending you back in paired limousines, so Capitol with One, Two with Three, et cetera. Please follow me towards the garage and I will lead you to your cars."

A pit formed in Oksana's stomach as she stood up and followed the crowd of people moving towards the cars. She had subconsciously known that this moment was coming, but nothing prepared her for the wave of emotion, of sadness, terror and heartbreak that washed over her as she came to terms with the fact that she was about to go to the place that her brother took his last real breaths.

Breaths in the Arena weren't real breaths.

As she kept walking, she couldn't help but feel as though she was being pushed along by the rest of the horde, not so much moving on her own accord. She was operating on autopilot, trying her best to fend off the tears that threatened to cloud her vision and the sobs that were about to overwhelm her body. The more time that she spent walking in Avery's footsteps, the more that she felt that crushing and overwhelming guilt and sadness. This place, this physical place had taken her brother away from her, and there was nothing that she could do about it but there was also nothing that she wanted more in life. Her protector, her lifesaver had been ripped away from her, and it tore at her in ways that she couldn't describe.

Even winning the Events couldn't bring Avery back. Why even try?

The school of competitors and mentors kept moving along, eventually emerging into a large, underground garage. Oksana followed her mentors and district partner down the line, trying to find the car meant for them and the District Six team. As they walked, she couldn't help but notice the little specks of gold glitter on the ground. They were probably from some Capitolite's costume that had been tracked in when the escorts came here to drive to the Training Center. Oksana still couldn't comprehend how these outfits were so extravagant, so expensive, so opulent when so many people in the districts were starving. Even if things in the districts were slowly getting better, they still weren't great.

At least, Oksana admitted, the light caught the glitter in a really pretty way. Oksana liked pretty lights.

When they finally found their car, the District Seven team filed in and took their seats. Oksana and Darcy sat in silence, waiting for everyone to get settled so that they could get to the Training Center. A part of Oksana wanted everyone to hurry up so that she could just get tonight over with, while the other part wanted everyone to take as much time as they could so she would never have to deal with the reality that would inevitably crush her when she entered her room that night.

A few moments after Oksana and Darcy got into the car, the team from Six made it to the car and piled in. Once everyone was seated and seatbelts were buckled, the car began to move. Oksana was hoping for a nice, calm, quiet car ride. Nothing too intense, just some time to sit and steel herself for what she was going to have to deal with for the next few days.

"Hi, you're Oksana, right?"

Oksana took a deep breath. "Yes."

"I'm Ella, one of the competitors from Six. It's nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too," Oksana replied curtly, not wanting to be impolite to a fellow competitor but not exactly interested in any form of actual conversation. Fortunately, silence fell over the car for a moment, the only sound coming from the rolling of the tires on the smooth roads of the Capitol. Oksana had almost never been in a car before this, so she found the sound actually somewhat soothing.

"I'm… I'm sorry about your brother."

Oksana took a deep breath as her nerves shot up. That wasn't exactly the way to lead a conversation, and it certainly wasn't a conversation Oksana wanted to have right now, in the car. Trying her best to keep calm and not explode, she curtly replied, "Thank you."

"I know how hard it can be to grapple with losing a family member. I had something similar happen to me."

"OK."

"My mom was placed on a statute about a year and a half ago that expired just in time for me to be considered for the Events. I'm lucky that I didn't have any other siblings to lose, and that I didn't lose my life, but I almost lost her."

"You mean she almost lost you."

"Oh. Yeah, that. Anyway." Oksana had a feeling that Ella was done beating around the bush and braced herself for impact. "I really want to use these Events as a platform to show what's wrong with the statutes system. You lost your brother because of a system that was designed to hurt not those who actually committed crimes but those whom their actions affect, many of whom are totally innocent. We need to do something to fix the system."

Oksana felt a giant bubble of rage moving from the pit of her stomach up and up and up until it exploded out of her mouth. "But you don't really get it!" she exclaimed, still desperately fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. "Your life was at risk because of the statute, but you didn't lose your big brother. No changes that anyone could possibly make could ever bring Avery back! He's gone. Forever."

Fortunately for Ella, the car pulled into the Training Center at that moment. As soon as the door opened and her seatbelt unbuckled, Oksana flew out of the car and into the elevators of the Training Center, rapidly pressing the "7" button in hopes of making the door close faster. The moment the doors opened again, she ran to the room with a circle in the color she'd just chosen on the door, flung herself on her bed, and finally let out all of the tears that had been building up in her eyes and in her heart. Ella didn't understand, she could never understand. Nobody could ever understand the pain that Oksana felt.

It was an hour later when Oksana, finally out of tears to cry, fell into a long and thankfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

 _Sharen Cantiano, 17  
District Twelve Mentor  
Competitor in the First Events_

* * *

"Well, wasn't that a lovely night?" chirped Evelynne as the elevator opened on the District Twelve floor.

"It was," gushed Mina, whose eyes were wide open, trying to take in everything around her, a usual reaction for competitors seeing their floor in the Training Center for the first time. "Everything is so lavish and lovely here. It's hard to believe that this is real."

"Nice," murmured Cam, who was struggling to keep her eyes open, a natural reaction for a twelve-year-old at that time of night. "Sleep."

"Yes, Cam, you can go to sleep. We'll tell you about your options for tomorrow in the morning. Asha, can you take her to your room?"

"I'll go with her," Mina offered. "I can figure out my way around the floor, and I want to explore."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I'll come back out when I'm done."

"Here, I'll go with you two," offered Evelynne. "I'll help you get settled in and show you around your rooms. They can be a bit overwhelming. I'll catch up with you two after, but you should get started on your chat."

"Thank you, Evelynne. Good night, Mina and Cam!"

"Night, Asha," Cam replied quietly, shuffling along behind Mina, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Once the girls were out of sight, Sharen and Asha took seats around the table to strategize for the Events now that they'd seen their competitors' competition. Getting sponsors had been slightly less of an uphill battle now that Twelve's industry was directly touching the lives of Capitolites; it was a frequent ploy to try to convince a wealthy mother whose child was treated for cancer in Twelve to sponsor the Twelve tributes. They were particularly successful when the Twelve tributes were not criminals, especially because the tributes from the Career districts were almost never criminals and almost always the most patriotic and therefore naturally drew the lion's share of sponsors. With the Events, where the two competitors were both totally innocent, Twelve had rather good prospects. The trick was figuring out how to help them do their best to further increase the odds of their competitors getting sponsors.

Or at least, Asha was ready to figure out how to best sell their competitors. Sharen had other plans for the night, and she didn't want to spend any more time than she had to in this conversation. Plus, she had an idea that she knew was going to work for the two competitors, because it was the obvious solution. Why waste time trying to come up with anything else?

"So, what's our plan?" asked Asha.

Sharen shrugged. "I don't know why we're thinking so hard about this. Mina and Cam are going to sell themselves."

"What do you mean?" asked Asha.

"Look. Mina is a kind and caring girl, who is doing the best job of taking care of Cam. And you can see in her eyes just how much Cam cares about Mina. This story basically writes itself. Little girl from a rough childhood gets a second chance at life, mature older girl who literally moved out of Two because of how big her heart is has taken the younger girl under her wing. No story will better pull on the Capitol's heartstrings than this! It's as cute as Chloe and Wins were last year but with Mina actually able to pull off a win, and they can both win together which is even better."

The other two women thought for a moment. "I mean, that's not a bad angle," Asha replied, "but we have to make sure that it's something that both of them are comfortable with. And, what that angle does is restrict Cam to just being 'the kid.' It worked for Chloe, but sometimes people who are 'just the kid' end up being overlooked because they can't win."

"But these aren't the Games," Sharen insisted. "They're the Events. Chloe won last year because the question of who can or cannot win is different. And if the Capitolites like our team, they'll vote for us. It's the sentimental vote."

Asha shook her head. "The problem is that people are really looking for people who can win. Many Capitolites place bets and they want to place bets on teams that will be successful. If Mina and Cam end up in an elimination challenge, the odds of them losing are really high."

"But if they're well-liked enough, they won't be in the elimination challenge, both because people will vote for them so they won't be the least popular and because the other teams won't put them in the elimination challenge. If they can play this well enough, they can skate by under the radar for a very long time."

"I think that's leaving a bit much to chance," admitted Asha. "I also think that relegating women to just a mother-daughter relationship decreases their potential to appear as strong, powerful, independent women. We need to find a way to build them up, to show girls that they don't have to just care for others or be cared for. You, of all people, should understand this."

"That makes a lot of sense. And, I think that we also need to find an angle that will sell. And sweet sells."

Asha sighed. "I still think that we can do so much more than sweet. But, it's not a bad angle if we can't figure out anything else. We just have to make sure that we're not putting the weight on Mina to care for Cam. Abuse is… it's horrible, and we have to make sure that Cam is getting adequate support. And as great of a kid as Mina may be, she's just a kid, not a qualified therapist."

Sharen was getting antsy. This was supposed to be a quick and easy conversation because the angle that Sharen suggested was the obvious angle for the pair! Sharen had to find a way to wrap this up. She had other business she had to attend to that night.

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. "We can go to other floors basically whenever we want because we're mentors, right?"

"Yes…"

"Why don't I go talk to Mallory? She's, unfortunately, had some experience with this issue, so maybe she can give me some advice on how to help Cam."

"That might work," Asha said. "Just be careful not to trigger Mallory, OK? Be delicate with her."

"I got it, I got it, I got it. I'll see you later." Sharen walked somewhat briskly towards the elevator, not wanting to seem like she wanted to get the hell out of there. She was going to go talk to Mallory… eventually. For now, though, she had a bigger case to solve.

She was going to get to the bottom of where Aviel was.

* * *

 _Mettius Dunebreaker, 15  
The Capitol_

* * *

" _Hey, Silas, can I go check out the roof?"_ Mettius asked eir mentor. _"I've heard it's really pretty."_

"Now?" replied Silas, who did not know sign language but was trying to be as deliberate as possible with their words so Mettius could read their lips.

" _Yeah. It's just one floor up, you'll know where I am."_

Silas looked at Lyric and Amos for guidance. "Nobody said they couldn't be out late, right?" The rest of the team shook their heads. "Well, I suppose. Just be careful, all right?"

Mettius gave Silas a thumbs up, then made a beeline for the stairs that led up to the roof. To an extent, Mettius was telling the truth; ey had heard nice things about the gardens on the roof of the Training Center. But Mettius was more excited to meet Xayah up there. Ey wasn't necessarily interested in a relationship with Xayah; while ey considered themselves panromantic, ey was also asexual, so that wasn't exactly a factor. Mettius was just happy to have found someone with whom ey could easily communicate, without having to work to explain or teach sign language to them. It took a weight off of eir shoulders, removing the first barrier to forming a relationship with another person.

It was hard for Mettius to make friends when ey was deaf, especially because most other people didn't sign.

" _When did you learn you were deaf?"_ signed Xayah.

" _I've never known a world where I wasn't deaf,"_ Mettius explained. _"I was born with very little hearing, just some sounds that are really high-pitched and some that are really low-pitched."_

" _How did you make friends when you were younger?"_

" _It was really hard for me,"_ admitted Mettius. _"Most hearing kids didn't know sign language, and I couldn't speak, so I grew up without many friends."_

" _Did you try to learn how to speak to meet more people?"_

" _I mean, a little bit, but I didn't learn much of anything,"_ Mettius replied, then demonstrated his vocal capacity with some strained and choppy syllables that maybe sounded like pieces of words. _"At least, not anything coherent. It was just not really feasible, and I didn't want to worry about it."_

Xayah brought her hand to her throat. _"Did you ever try to get hearing aids or something like that? Some way to at least learn how to speak somehow."_

" _I've gotten fitted for them a few times. But it didn't ever really feel worth it to me. And plus, I feel like I can do more as someone who is proud of their deafness."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _I wish that there was a better place for deaf people in society so those who were hearing impaired didn't feel like they had to wear hearing aids or learn to read lips or whatever to conform to hearing society. And a part of me gets really frustrated when deaf people stop fighting for their rights by getting hearing aids or getting their hearing fixed in some way. People shouldn't have to do those things!"_

Xayah thought for a moment. _"But aren't there things that naturally make sound that are kind of hard to change? Like, you know, hearing cars or tractors coming. My parents told me about this whole thing that happened around when President Emerald really took power where they changed around the rules of how it is determined who worked where in the fields and for how long to place people who were hard of hearing out of the direct range of tractors so they wouldn't get run over because they couldn't hear the tractors coming."_

" _You're right, there are some things that prove challenging, like cars and tractors. I feel like with the technology the Capitol has there must be something where moving vehicles could make the ground vibrate or whatnot. Technology is such a valuable thing to make use of, and I bet we could do so much to make society a better place for deaf people."_

Mettius could tell that Xayah had another point to make and was choosing not to make it. _"Do you do any work to help deaf people?"_

" _I've been doing advocacy work in school for a long time, trying to make it more inclusive of different kinds of people. That can be difficult in my school, because my school markets to Capitol kids who are either visually impaired or hard of hearing, but it isn't impossible because the ratio of traditionally abled children to children with disabilities is about two to one. So I do a lot of work to make everyone aware of the different types of people that we have at school, particularly helping those in the deaf community advocate for their rights within the school system."_

" _That's really cool. I appreciate the work that you do."_

" _How about you? How did you learn that you were deaf?"_

" _I'm actually not deaf,"_ Xayah explained. _"I'm mute. I had an accident a few years back where I was hit by a tractor, and as a result, I lost my ability to speak."_

" _That's really sad."_

" _Yeah. It was really hard at the beginning, especially because I used to sing. But I knew that I couldn't give up on life. It was important to me to find a way to continue living my life to the fullest, so I did."_

" _Do you ever miss your voice?"_

Xayah paused. _"I… I don't know, to be honest. Like, yes, of course, I miss it. I used to sing, so it was my lifeblood and livelihood, really. But there's never been an opportunity for me to have it back. So I try not to spend too much time dwelling on what I had and prefer to work to make my life now as good as it can be."_

Suddenly, Xayah's ears perked up. _"I hear someone coming,"_ she signed, then turned around to look at the doorway. Sure enough, a moment later, Silas emerged. They assessed the situation, raised their eyebrows, then beckoned to Mettius. Mettius got up, signed a quick goodbye and see you later to Xayah, and headed back to the stairs to follow Silas down to his floor.

When they got back, Silus led Mettius into eir room. "You didn't tell me you were going to meet another competitor!"

" _I'm not interested in her in a romantic way, I don't think, and certainly not a sexual way. It's just so rare for me to meet someone else who also signs."_

"I get it, just tell me next time, OK?"

" _OK."_

"Now, you need to get some sleep. It's getting late, and tomorrow is an important day for socializing. You need to form relationships with the other competitors. We'll have some time to talk about strategies for that in the morning, but be ready, all right?"

" _All right. Good night, Silas."_

"Good night, Mettius." Silas left the room and closed the door, leaving a very satisfied Mettius to get ready for bed.

It was nice to have a friend.

* * *

 **Hi everyone! I'm back with another chapter! What did you think? Did people pick up on the fact that Mettius is deaf? What is Sharen planning with Aviel, and will anything help? Will Oksana ever not be sad?**

 **Here's some very good news: I already have the next chapter written! My plan at the moment is to keep updating every other week, as an attempt to extend my stockpile into next semester. At the rate I've been going, I think we'll hit the Events around late March/early April, but don't hold me to that ;).**

 **I'll see everyone in the next chapter!**

 **-goldie031**


	30. Free Day, Part 1

_Atticus Otterson, 18  
District Thirteen_

* * *

Atticus woke up and rubbed his eyes, then began to grope around near his bed, trying to find his camera. Then he remembered: he hadn't received formal permission to vlog yet, so his camera was still buried in his suitcase.

Sad.

Fortunately, Atticus had been notified early enough about the Events that he had worked hard in the days leading up to his departure to stockpile video and set them up to auto-upload over the course of the Events. They were more challenge-type videos than vlogs, but at least he wouldn't have to break his upload streak. Pre-filming videos and programming them to upload was the safest way to keep his upload streak anyway. Atticus really didn't want to bring his computer with him to the Events; losing it and all of his footage was way bigger of a risk to his career and livelihood than Atticus was willing to take. So even if Atticus got approval to vlog, he would probably just upload a couple of Events vlogs after the fact. It would give him some easy post-Events videos to edit while he got back in the swing of things.

Normally, Atticus would film his morning routine; getting up, getting dressed, doing his hair, et cetera, all documented in a nice, artsy style. But today, he didn't dare. As much as he wanted to get the best and most possible footage for his loyal viewers, he also couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing his chances to win the Events by breaking some sort of confidentiality rule. So he chose not to film it, which felt kind of – OK, really weird. He could get ready much faster when he didn't have to move the camera between every step to get the perfect shot.

Of course, just because he couldn't vlog – at least not yet – didn't mean that he couldn't promote his channel. Rumors were going around that there would be some opportunities to travel around the Capitol, and Atticus was not about to miss an opportunity to get his name out there even more. Part of why he'd chosen his color, a particular shade of red, was because he had a line of merchandise in precisely that color, in addition to his line in black, the district color of Thirteen. He could stay within the rules of the Events and wear his merch every single day.

It was a perfect way to get his brand out there for more people to see.

Once Atticus was dressed in an AtticusOtter t-shirt, AtticusOtter track pants, an AtticusOtter baseball cap, and his AtticusOtter skater shoes, he grabbed his AtticusOtter water bottle and went into the common room to eat breakfast. He was somewhat surprised to find that the only other person there was his district partner, the other Atticus. That boy was a strange one. Even though it was now the second day since the send-off ceremony, he was still wearing his dress uniform and still sitting straight as a stick at the table. Soldier Peregrine, as he insisted he be called, had no real interest in… well, in anything other than winning the Events for Thirteen. Atticus considered himself to be a disciplined and determined person, but it was nothing compared to how determined and disciplined Soldier Peregrine was. That boy was not distracted by anything; he spent the entire train rides coming up with a strategy and exercising to build up strength, and instead of having fun or dancing at the banquet, Soldier Peregrine did nothing but network, doing anything he could to increase Thirteen's odds of winning.

Honestly, Atticus appreciated how much work Soldier Peregrine was putting into the Events. If the other Atticus was only going to work, it meant more time for promotion and more fun for Atticus Otterson. Although, it made Atticus kind of sad that the other boy had no concept of fun.

"Good morning, Soldier Peregrine," Atticus Otterson offered, giving a wave to the other boy.

"Good morning, Soldier Otterson," Atticus Peregrine replied curtly.

"How did you sleep?"

"Well. I got my usual five hours and I'm ready to begin my training for the day."

"Training? We're in the Capitol for the Events. Why do you still need to train?"

"To keep up with my routine. I may not be earning points these weeks, but I need to keep my routine so that I don't lose my standing in St. Harriet's."

Atticus had no idea what Soldier Peregrine was talking about. Rather than attempt to dissect his compatriot's strange musings, Atticus got himself some breakfast and took a seat at the table. Over the next few moments, their mentors and escort joined the boys at the table.

"Good morning, guys," Ellis said, as she placed her plate in front of her chair and took a seat. "How did you sleep?"

"Well," answered the boys in unison.

"That's good! I have some stuff to go over for the day, so bear with me for a bit. First of all. Yesterday, the rest of the competitors got a medical check done. As you two are from Thirteen, you were excused from the medical checks, but if you two want to have a medical check done today, you're more than welcome to. You can sign up for one in the basement, where you'll be meeting for a tour of the Capitol that is not technically mandatory, but 'highly, highly encouraged,' which means mandatory. After that, there will be some structured activities for you guys, though if you want to make your own activity, you're more than welcome to organize something. Anything that can be done within the Training Center is fair game, but if you want to do something out of the Training Center that is not an organized activity, you'll have to ask for permission. You're also allowed to visit competitors on other floors if you want to, provided that the other competitors allow you on their floor. Got it?"

"Sounds good," replied Atticus, as Soldier Peregrine nodded.

"Great. Oh, and Atticus Otterson, I've received word that you're good to vlog, but all of your footage has to be run by President Emerald and some of Thirteen's officials before it gets posted."

"Awesome!" Atticus exclaimed, running to his room to grab his camera. "This is gonna be the best vlog ever!"

Once he had his camera in hand, Atticus went back out into the common space. "Are you going to do anything today?" he asked, attempting to socialize with his district partner.

"I think I'll get a check-up done," answered Soldier Peregrine. "It's always good to check one's health, and I don't have to spend points on an extra check-up, which is good."

"That's true. I guess I'll do one too if the timing works out, but I'm more excited to vlog! Come on! Let's go downstairs!" Atticus ran over to the elevator and eagerly pressed the button for the basement. He had his merch, he had his camera, and he had a whole bunch of free time.

Today was going to be a great day.

* * *

 _Mallory Farro, 16  
District Eleven Mentor  
Competitor in the First Events_

* * *

"It looks like the competitors just got back from the tour," Mallory remarked, watching as the black bus drove down the street towards the training center. "Are you sure you're good to go with April to therapy? I'm her mentor, so it would make sense for me to go so that I know the plan for her for the Events."

"Yes, I'm sure," Ivie replied. "I don't want anything to come up for you during the session."

"But I'm usually fine!"

"But what if this time, you're not, and something somehow triggers you? With Crixus not exactly being of the most help, I need to make sure you're in the best possible shape."

"That's true." Crixus had neglected to tell anyone else from Eleven that he disliked children over the age of eleven because they were annoying. How little Alder Howe had managed to break down that barrier was anyone's guess, but a year back in Eleven had caused Crixus to resort back to his old habits. When he was desperately needed, Crixus was somewhat willing to help, but he really preferred not to do anything related to the competitors, leaving Mallory and Ivie to pick up the slack. "If you're really OK to go, then go for it, but if you have any issues, please let me know. You don't exactly have the easiest past either."

"Hey," Ivie said, coming up to Mallory and putting her hands on her shoulders. "I'm supposed to be supporting you, not the other way around."

"All right. Just… be careful, OK?"

"I know. I'll catch you up after."

Once April and Ivie were off, Mallory took a seat on the couch and took a deep breath. Maybe Ivie was right. It felt really nice to take a break and relax; Mallory found mentoring enjoyable, but it was also really challenging, especially with the special needs of this pair of competitors.

Just as Mallory was about to drift off into a nap, the elevator doors behind her opened again. Mallory turned around to find Xayah, accompanied by her interpreter and a woman whom Mallory didn't recognize wearing scrubs in government purple. "Xayah, what's up? I thought you were going to go hang out with some of the other competitors."

" _I thought so too,"_ signed Xayah, _"but this woman found me and told me that she needed to have a conversation with me and my mentor."_

"Aha. Well, I don't know where Crixus is, and Ivie is out somewhere with April. So I guess I'm your mentor for the time being." Mallory stood up and reached out her hand for the woman to shake. "Mallory Farro."

"Doctor Amberson. A pleasure to meet you."

"You as well. Shall we sit at the table?"

"If you'd like." The four individuals took their seats around the table. "So, I'm here to discuss some issues regarding Xayah's vocal condition. The Gamemakers have been a little bit vague regarding the competitions of the Events, but it seems as though there will be no competition for which Xayah and April will be disadvantaged by Xayah's inability to speak, which is a very good thing. However, the ability to communicate is obviously very important, particularly when forming relationships seems to be a key to success. We have two options that we wanted to discuss with you for communication; you do have the option to choose neither, but it is important to everyone involved with the Events that you have options for effective communication presented to you.

"The first option is some sort of electronic communication device, either a smartwatch or a tablet of some size. We would spend some time configuring it to your liking, whether that be with a keyboard to type on or a series of words or images that appear on screen for you to click. We can even program the voice for you to sound as you'd like it. It's really up to you.

"The second option is a bit more intense. As you remember, when you had your medical checkup, we performed a quick x-ray and scope of your vocal cords. We learned from looking at the images from those scans that the damage to your vocal cords appears to be fixable. As in, we can give you your voice back."

"Tell me more," said Xayah's interpreter. "I need all of the details you can give me."

"The procedure we'd be using is 99% effective. If it fails, you would never be able to talk, which is no different from where you're at right now, really. We would have to start the procedure within the next two hours, but it would be completed by the end of the night, so you'd be able to speak for your interview. I don't want to go into too many of the medical details because we are limited on time, but trust me when I say that I have discussed this procedure with many top Capitol doctors as well as the President, Violet Emerald, and Gamemaker Callahan and we all agree that this is a fully safe procedure for you to undergo."

Mallory turned to look at Xayah, who looked totally stunned. _"So I only have two hours to make a decision?"_

"If you want your voice for the interviews, yes."

Xayah paused. _"Can I talk it over with Mallory?"_

"Sure. I'll give you a moment." Dr. Amberson stood up and went into the hallway.

Mallory looked at Xayah expectantly. "What do you think?"

" _I don't know. I've spent so much time getting used to not having my voice… what if it's not the same? What if I really have to learn how to use my voice again? Or what if it doesn't work and I still don't have any voice? It feels like there's a lot up in the air. But, at the same time, to be able to sing again… to be Eleven's songbird again… it would definitely be nice."_

"It seems as though there are lots of pros and cons. Do you want to make a list?"

" _I just don't want to have to make a decision yet. Two hours is not enough time to make a life-impacting decision, and I want to talk it over with Ivie as well."_

"So why don't we see if we can get more time to think?"

" _Can we do that?"_

"We won't know if we don't ask."

Mallory called for Dr. Amperson, who rejoined the rest of the individuals in the common room. "Do you have an answer?" Dr. Amperson asked.

"We actually have a question," clarified Mallory. "Do we have to make a decision on this matter right now?"

"Well, if you want to be able to talk for the interviews and for the duration of the Events, yes. However, this procedure is such that we can do it at any point through the end of the Events. We just wanted to make sure that you knew that this was an option so that you can communicate during the Events."

" _And you said you need to start in the next two hours?"_

"Yes."

Mallory could see the gears turning in Xayah's head. "Do you want me to see if I can get Ivie so you can ask her for advice too?"

Xayah nodded. _"I just don't know what to do."_

* * *

 _Titania Pyrrhos, 17  
The Capitol_

* * *

When Titania heard that a tour of the Capitol was a non-mandatory mandatory part of the competitors' free day, she was ecstatic. Even if the tour hadn't been mandatory, she absolutely would have wanted to take part. It didn't matter that she'd spent the past six years touring around the Capitol, performing as part of her troupe; Titania jumped at any chance she got to explore the city that she called her home. Plus, it was always cool to get to see the beauty of her city through someone else's fresh eyes, especially when those eyes were young enough to not be jaded by the perils of life and the questionable actions of the Capitol.

The problem that Titania sensed about this tour was that the tour guide did not exactly seem enthusiastic. He surely knew a lot about the Capitol and its history; Titania doubted Ruby would have picked some random bum from the Peacekeeper or security staff to give a bunch of first-time Capitolites a tour of the Capitol. This was her city, after all, and the crown jewel of the country, so Titania expected that Ruby would want to show it off as well as she could for the competitors who would be returning to their home districts as ambassadors. But this man clearly had no energy; he gave off the vibes of a professor in his ninety-seventh year of teaching the same intro-level class. How could he ever convey the grandeur of a city like this if he seemed totally bored of it?

"Is everyone here?" droned the man. "Good. Good morning everyone. Welcome to your tour of the Capitol. This gorgeous city is the crown jewel of our country, and we are excited that you will get to see it for all its glory. Before we go, everyone please take one of these bracelets." The man held out a box that looked like a jewelry box that contained a number of Capitol purple bracelets. "These bracelets act as trackers. If something happens, this way, we can find you. When we return to the Training Center, you may take these off, but not before then."

The competitors each reached into the box and grabbed a bracelet, then attempted to put them on, attempted being the operative word. Most of the younger competitors were struggling to figure out how to use one hand to put their bracelets on the other wrist. Without much hesitation, the older girl from Twelve began to dart around, helping the younger kids fasten their bracelets to their wrists. Once everyone had their bracelet secured, the competitors were led to a black double-decker bus with tinted windows and ushered up the stairs to the top level. The children took their seats around the bus, taking care to fasten their seatbelts.

"Now, if everyone would please put in the earpiece to your left," the man continued in the same monotone voice. "This way I do not have to yell and it is easier for you to hear me."

"As if he could yell," Titania muttered as she placed her earpiece carefully in her ear. This man was not going to be doing the Capitol any favors with this tour.

One everyone was settled in on the bus, it began to move, driving around the City Circle first and then down a familiar road towards the Remake Center. "Welcome to the Capitol. Right now, we are driving down the Avenue of the Tributes, in the opposite direction that the tributes' chariots will progress for the Games. Along this avenue are most of the important buildings for Games operations: the Training Center, the Remake Center, and the President's Mansion. The exception is the Gamemakers' Complex, which is located elsewhere in the Capitol. That complex not only houses the Gamemakers' workspace but also their living quarters; President Emerald also lives in the complex, having moved out of the President's Mansion to allow it to be used for other purposes. For security reasons, we won't be going there today, but perhaps if you end up becoming involved in the Games or the Events in a more serious capacity, you will get a chance to see it."

The bus drove through the Remake Center, eventually emerging through a set of doors in the back that seemed to magically appear out of the wall. "These doors are crucial to making sure that the Opening Ceremonies go smoothly," explained the man as the bus passed through the doors to emerge into the Capitol proper. "As there is not enough room to turn the chariots and horses around in this basement area, the horses and chariots have to come in through the back to go out the front. After an incident early in the Games era, however, the doors were camouflaged into the wall to make sure that the tributes wouldn't see them and try to run away."

This could not be a more boring tour, and it also was almost definitely not the type of tour Ruby intended to take the competitors on. Why would Ruby be promoting the Games for the competitors when everything she'd done with the Games since she took office had been for the purpose of diminishing the impact of the Games on the population of Panem? Either something was not communicated to the tour guide properly, or Ruby was trying some sort of prototype of a tour that would be run after the Games were over. But this was the wrong group to test it out on.

Fortunately, as the tour progressed, the tour guide shifted from focusing on the Games to focusing on the great things the Capitol had to offer, like theatres, sports stadiums, and a university. Unfortunately, the tour guide didn't get much better. Even when discussing the most exciting things about the Capitol, the pitch of his voice didn't raise above or below the same monotone drone. As much as Titania wanted to support the Capitol by listening to the guide, she just couldn't deal with his monotone anymore. Subtly, she took out her earpiece, electing to simply watch as the Capitol pass by.

As Titania watched the tall, candy-colored buildings pass by, she became aware of some pointed whispering happening behind her. Most of the competitors were talking, but these whispers seemed different, like those whispering were actually planning something. Titania turned around to see the older tribute from Two and the girl from One whispering to each other, glancing carefully around at the competitors who surrounded them. The girl even looked over at Titania for a moment, nodding at something the boy from One had whispered to her; when she caught Titania's gaze, she looked away, but not before Titania noticed the conniving glint in the other girl's eye.

Those two were clearly up to something. But what did it have to do with Titania?

* * *

 **Well, a bit of a late-night update, but an on-schedule update nonetheless. Honestly, I'm so far ahead writing-wise (I'm currently three chapters ahead) that I forgot when I was supposed to update. But we're here now! A note on the chapter: Titania's section technically takes place before Mallory's chronologically, but I liked the feeling of Titania's ending the chapter, so you'll just have to suspend disbelief lol.**

 **Of course, some questions! What will Otterson vlog, and will his footage be approved? If you were Xayah, what choice would you make? What choice do you think she will make? And what are Noel and Pax planning?**

 **Full disclosure, two weeks from now I'm going to be rather busy so there's a chance that I won't update on Sunday but later in the week instead. Perhaps I'll update early because of how far ahead I am? I don't know. We'll have to see XD but I'll see you soon with another chapter, featuring Mack, Sage, and Atticus!**

 **-goldie031**


	31. Free Day, Part 2

_Mack Valley, 14  
District Two_

* * *

Mack had been playing Dungeons and Dragons for years, but he'd never had the opportunity to play like this, with nearly this much technology. It was the coolest thing ever.

Mack had the most advanced dungeon master shield he'd ever seen or heard of in front of him, with screens that allowed him to monitor which monsters his opponents were fighting and track their hit points in real-time and check anything in any Dungeons and Dragons manual he needed. Spread out on the table was a giant map with some sort of technology that allowed Mack to change the map whenever he wanted to using a small tablet in front of him. On top of that, Mack's shield allowed him to view the character sheets that the players were using, which were also on tablets so they could be automatically updated. And, of course, the dice. Each person had been able to select their own set of dice and customize each die however they wanted to. Mack, meanwhile, had access to as many dice as he needed for the game. He'd decided to customize four sets of dice because if he needed any more he could just pull them up on his shield. And the best part was, he'd convinced four other people, Herman, Ella, Sigmund, and Jack, to play with him.

This was the best day of Mack's life.

Once they finished setting up characters, and Mack finished explaining all of the basics and rules of Dungeons and Dragons, it was time to begin the game. "Well, let's get started on our campaign! Now, my friends at home and I like to do campaigns based on past Hunger Games arenas, but considering the circumstances and that this is your first time playing we'll go with something a bit simpler." Mack pressed some buttons on the tablet, transforming the map into a plain, grassy meadow with four small animated people standing in the center. "Now, your goal for this game is to find the treasure, which is somewhere in this meadow. Why don't we get started?"

"How do we start?" asked Jack.

"You just kind of… explore. Make whatever checks you want, move around however you want, just have at it."

The other four looked at each other. "I guess I'll go first," Ella asserted. "I want to roll a check to tell us more about the meadow. What would be the best check to roll?"

Mack thought for a moment. "I think a nature check."

"All right." Ella looked at her character sheet. "So my nature is a plus one so that means that I add one to whatever I roll on the twenty-sided die, right?"

"Correct."

Ella took out her d-20 and rolled it around in her palm before throwing it onto the table. "It's a 20," she said, looking up at Mack.

"Really? You rolled a 20?"

"Yes."

Mack shrugged. "Well, I guess I'm telling you everything about the meadow. So, this meadow is conveniently a five by five grid of squares this size, so it extends two squares to the north, south, east, and west. However, within the meadow are a number of guardians of the treasure you're trying to find, some stronger than others. But there is some hope; as you defeat the guardians, they will drop various items that will increase your skills. The stronger the guardian you beat, the better items you'll win. Make sense?"

"Do we have to fight a guardian if we find it?" asked Sigmund.

"Sometimes you will, sometimes you won't. Know, though, that you won't know how strong a guardian is until you fight them, and that appearance can be deceiving. I think I've given you everything I can give you for now. What do you want to do next?"

Jack raised his hand. "I want to roll a check to see if there are any monsters in this square of the meadow."

"That would be a perception check," Mack suggested.

"Cool! I roll perception." Jack rolled his d-20. "It's an eleven, plus my perception is a plus one, so that's a total of 12."

"There is a monster somewhere in this square."

"Can you tell me anything about it?"

Mack hemmed and hawed for a moment before replying, "Not really."

"All right. Well, I guess we should find it," Jack suggested. "Yeah?" The other three players shrugged. "Great. Let's all pick a direction and start walking around."

Mack watched as Jack, Ella, Herman, and Sigmund used little joystick icons on their tablets to maneuver their characters around the map, waiting for one of them to reach a particular point on the map; Mack wasn't going to let them move to a new section yet. Sure enough, Herman reached the trigger point, causing Mack to unleash the first monster for the group to face.

"A scout appears!" Mack announced. "This is the first guardian you'll have to face. Everybody, roll initiative." Everyone rolled their d-20s, added their Dexterity modifiers, and told Mack their scores; Mack plugged all of their scores into his dungeon master shield which automatically deactivated everyone's tablets except for Sigmund's, who was taking his turn first. "It's time for your first combat! Combat is the only part of Dungeons and Dragons that goes by turns. On your turn in combat, you can take one move and one action. If you scroll through your tablet you can see some of the actions you can take; there are a lot of them. Moves are pretty simple; you can move as many squares as your speed. You can make some moves before your action, and some moves after your action. We're going to take turns in this order based on the initiatives you rolled: Sigmund, Jack, the scout, Ella, then Herman. I'll do my best to walk you through combat, but really, it's up to you guys what you want to do, in what order, on your turn. Ready?"

Before Sigmund could begin his turn, the door burst open and Noel stormed in. "Mack! Where have you been?" they exploded.

"I've been playing with my new friends."

Noel scoffed. "Outer districts. You can do better. Come on. We have some stuff to do."

"I thought we had nothing to do today?"

"Something came up. I need to talk to you. It's important." Noel tapped his foot. "Now!"

"All right," conceded Mack sadly, beginning to put away his shield and dice. "Let me clean this up and I'll be there in a bit."

"Fine." Noel stormed out of the room and slammed the door.

"Wow," remarked Herman. "He seems agitated."

"Noel is always agitated. I'm just sad that we can't play more."

"Well, maybe we can play during the Events," Ella suggested. "That could be a fun distraction!"

"Yeah, that would be really nice." The five kids finished putting away the game and returned it to the suitcase in which the materials were provided. "Well, thank you for playing with me. I appreciate it a lot!"

"You're welcome! It's fun to learn a new game," Herman said. The other three nodded.

"I hope this meeting that Noel is calling is worth it."

* * *

 _Sage Davidson, 18  
District Eight Mentor and Escort  
Competitor in the First Events_

* * *

As soon as the elevator doors closed to take his competitors down for the Capitol tour, Sage made his way to the back of the District Eight floor, where the escort's suite was located. While he considered himself to be mentoring for Eight, because he was also technically Eight's escort, President Emerald had insisted that he live in the escort suite. When Sage initially heard the news, he'd protested; knowing how much bigger the escort suite was than the mentors' rooms, he felt bad having a much nicer room than Riley and Neelee, particularly considering how long Neelee had been mentoring for. When he actually saw the suite, however, Sage finally understood why Ruby had insisted that he live there.

Tucked in the back of the suite was an elevator that led to a private escort lounge.

Under normal circumstances, Sage assumed that this was a place for the escorts to get away from their district cargo; he could only _imagine_ how difficult it was for some of them to be around lowly outer district citizens. But for the escorts for these Events, and presumably, for the rest of the Events that existed, the escort lounge was a place of solace, the only place in which the former tributes could openly talk about their experiences and get the support they desperately needed from their peers. And for those former tributes who were the only "Capitol emissaries" living in their assigned district, here in the Capitol was the only place where they could talk about anything that they'd been through.

Sage wondered if the president who built the escort lounge knew what services it would provide. If it was Snow, Sage was sure he was rolling over in his grave.

When he got to the escort lounge, Sage looked around for Liana, whom he was meeting there to teach her about the other rescued tributes who were serving as escorts. In characteristic Ruby Emerald fashion, she had not given Liana nearly enough information to do her job as well as she could; in other words, Liana knew nothing about any of the other tributes and their experiences in the Games. Sage certainly didn't know everything about his fellow rescuees, but he knew enough to support Liana so that she could do what Sami Rolo was best at: supporting the rescuees once they left the Arena.

After scanning the room, Sage found Liana, sitting at a table on the side of the room, not interacting with the other former tributes who were reconnecting after the time they'd spent together in that bunker hidden below the Capitol. "Liana!" Sage called, giving her a wave as he approached her table.

"Hi, Sage. How's it going?"

"Well. How are you?"

"Good."

"Are you ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Sage took a deep breath. "OK. Is there anyone that you particularly want to talk about first?"

"Probably… probably Kylis. Er, Dania?"

"Most of us like holding on to our old names," Sage explained, "but not everyone. I'm not sure where Kylis falls. Anyway. I'm sure you know a lot about Kylis anyway, right? From your mom?"

"No, not really. I once found a box in Mom's stuff filled with what I guess must have been photos of Kylis but she refused to tell me anything. President Emerald told me more when she gave me this job than Mom did."

"Well, here's what I can tell you. Kylis was reaped for the Games for the Fifth Quell, and your mother volunteered because she couldn't bear the thought of not being with Kylis hurt. Obviously, being in a relationship hindered either of their chances at Garnet picking them; not only that, but Kylis is gay, so she could never love Garnet, but Dania is bi, so she could. Recognizing the predicament they were in, Kylis broke up with Dania so that Dania would be able to live, because if they were both to enter the Games, there was no way they could both get out. Dania lived and was forced to watch Kylis 'die' on television, but eventually moved on, which is really why you are in the position that you're in and not still in the orphanage. And, of course, Kylis lived."

Liana nodded. "That's rough for both of them."

"Yeah." The two fell silent for a moment. "Who else?" asked Sage.

Liana scanned the room. "What about that guy?" She pointed to a man wearing a light blue dress shirt with a sweater tied around his neck, tan slacks, and brown boat shoes.

Sage rolled his eyes. "Clint Huntington the IV, once Alistair Holt, the son of Three's corrupt mayor. Ruby will sometimes rescue tributes whom she thinks will give her useful information, like Madaline Ohm, who does the background checks for the tributes in the Games and competitors in the Events. That was probably what she was thinking when she rescued Alistair, it just… didn't pan out. He's a pompous, stuck-up brat. Avoid him as best you can."

"What about that one?" Liana indicated a woman wearing a black blazer, cargo shorts, a white shirt, and a Panama hat.

"That's Panama Stewart," explained Sage. "They were once Dakota Ranger. Panama is very mature and is far from the least capable escort despite being one of the more recently rescued tributes. But I will say this: Panama is the only person both smart enough and dumb enough to be asked to pick a transportation-related name to fit in in Six and go with Panama." Liana gave Sage a blank stare. "It was an ancient canal."

Liana shrugged. "How about the one who looks much plainer than all the other escorts?"

"Oh, that's Janie Dole. She's the one out of all of us who has to keep the lowest profile. Janie, once Maia Jones, was rigged into the 132nd Games from Thirteen because she's a Special Ops agent. Her job was to take out a particularly dangerous rebel from 8. Once she succeeded, Maia was rescued. She's the youngest escort, but being a SpOps agent, Ruby fully trusts her to handle escorting, even for Eleven."

Sage continued to tell Liana about all of the escorts who were once tributes. As he talked, Sage was suddenly overcome with a strong feeling that he was working to preserve the escorts' stories. The former tributes would never be able to tell their own stories of their Games. But with someone like Liana, who was not tied to the Games in the same way that Sami was, it felt like their stories had a real chance to survive.

"And that's everyone," Sage concluded as he finished telling Avery Devlin's story. "At least, all of the escorts. There are also all of the non-escorts, but we can talk about them later. How do you feel?"

"Alright. I know a lot more now than I did, which is good. I just feel like I've been put in a situation that I didn't ask for and am radically unprepared to handle."

Sage sighed, giving Liana a pained smile. "Trust me, Liana, we're all in the same boat."

* * *

 _Augustus Nero, 16  
District Four_

* * *

After the tour ended, Augustus and Marilyn had returned to their floor to get to know each other a bit better. They both agreed that it was crucial to become as close as possible as quickly as possible, especially considering that they wouldn't need to go head to head at any point as most Careers eventually have to in the Games. While Augustus was still a bit afraid to tell Marilyn his deepest secrets (and he had a feeling she was in the same boat), he definitely felt like he could trust her as a partner, and he got the sense that she felt the same way.

Just before the two got to the point where they were finally ready to share their deep, dark secrets, they heard the elevator doors open. Marilyn and Augustus looked towards the elevator, expecting to see one of their mentors or maybe their escort step out. Instead, however, it was the girl from One. "Hello," Marilyn said, attempting to not be completely curt with the girl.

"Hi," Pax replied calmly. "Can I borrow you two for a minute?"

Marilyn and Augustus looked at each other, exchanging a subtle nod. "I guess so." The two got up and followed Pax to the elevator which, to Augustus's surprise, took them up to the Capitolites' top floor. When they got out of the elevator, they found the two Capitol competitors sitting on one couch, as well as the boy from One, who was sitting in a recliner eating green grapes one by one from a massive bowl. Marilyn and Augustus sat next to each other on the other couch. After some waiting, the pair from Two came barging in, the older one almost dragging the younger one behind them.

"All right," the older one announced as the younger one took a seat on the other big chair. "Hi, guys. I'm Noel. Pax and I wanted to call this meeting to talk about something important. It shouldn't take all that long but we think it's important.

"As you know, this year's Events have an elimination component, and each day, the team that wins that day's competition gets to choose one team to compete in the elimination challenge. Because it is an elimination challenge, the team sent in for the challenge is not guaranteed to go home, but having control of that elimination is key to ensuring one's own safety. During color selection, I was thinking about how I- how we can maximize the odds that we do not end up in the elimination challenge. And the way we can do that is by maximizing the odds that we win the right to send a team into the elimination challenge.

"In this room are the four strongest teams in the Events, no question. We all have extensive training in the areas of most of the competitions we'll face. I think there is a very low chance that anyone other than the four of us will win a challenge. If we form a secret alliance, promising not to nominate each other for elimination until we absolutely have to, we increase our odds exponentially of coming out on top."

"On top of that," Pax I. chimed in, "we have a feeling that we're going to be the targets of some of the outer district teams by virtue of the fact that we come from districts who have traditionally had success in the Games. If we target each other, we decrease the likelihood that any one of us will win, and I'm sure we can all agree that it's better for another Career district to win if we don't. For each of us, the other three Career districts act as meat shields; by allying, we are all keeping our biggest competition close to us and preventing ourselves from being our biggest downfall. And, if we keep this a secret, nobody would need to know that we were allying in the first place. It would be almost foolproof protection.

"Thoughts?"

Augustus began running through all the possibilities in his head. Whether he said yes or no could significantly impact his future in the Events, and making the wrong decision could be incredibly detrimental to his chances of victory. And while his gut was normally trustworthy, today it wasn't even helpful.

On the one hand, Augustus knew for sure that forming a Career alliance was going against pretty much everything Ruby was going for. Augustus wasn't an idiot; he knew the direction in which Ruby was trying to move the country, and he generally supported it. Part of the difficulty of living in Panem at this time in its history was the cognitive dissonance of hating the idea of senseless child murder and recognizing that the culture change needed to get rid of said senseless child murder would take a long time to set in. Forming the Career alliance in the Events would only reinforce the culture that Ruby was trying to change, which would likely not bode well for any of them or, really, for the country.

On the other hand, going against Noel was definitely a bad move. From everything that Augustus had seen and heard, they were a ticking time bomb that could go off on anyone at any moment. From the way that Pax and Noel were talking, it seemed as though they'd already decided to ally. There was a very high chance that, if District Four were to decline, they would become target number one of the One-Two alliance, which was probably not a very good place to be if Augustus wanted to win.

Which he did.

"Augustus and I need to talk first," Marilyn declared, beckoning Augustus into the hallway going towards the bedrooms. Once the two were out of earshot from everyone else, Marilyn's face grew concerned. "What do you think?"

"It strikes me as the wrong move in the grand scheme of things," Augustus admitted. "I don't think I approve of the idea of forming a Career alliance in the Events."

"I agree with that. It goes against the changes that Ruby's aiming for, which feels wrong."

"Yeah. Not to mention that we all know that Career alliances inevitably fail disastrously at some point."

"They're a necessary evil in the Games for the protection of all of the Careers, but not something we need in the Events."

"Yeah." Marilyn paused for a second. "And yet I can't shake the feeling that it's a bad idea to be on Noel's bad side. It feels too dangerous."

"That's exactly what I was thinking," marveled Augustus. "Do you think we have time to talk to Sol and ask his opinion?"

"My guess is not."

"I had a feeling you would say that. So what do we do?"

Marilyn sighed. "I hate this, but I think the safest thing to do is to join the alliance. It protects us from them for being targeted in the short term and, if we win, we can advocate for better things in the long term."

Augustus nodded solemnly. "That is the best bet. We just have to hope that Titania and Mettius join too so that we're…"

"…so that we're not outright last on the totem pole. And that everyone actually keeps this a secret."

"Precisely." Augustus took a deep breath. "So we should tell them?"

"Yep."

The two returned to the other competitors in the living room. Augustus and Marilyn exchanged a nervous look before answering, cautiously, "We're in."

* * *

 **Well, we're really starting to move now! This has been a very slow burn plot but I think you may be able to see where this is going now. What do you think about these developments? How will Noel's Career alliance fare? How will the outer district tributes react? Any thoughts on the escorts we've met so far?**

 **I spaced out the Events on my calendar and it looks like, with uploads every other week, we'll be regular certainly through March, if not moving into April. I also have the first chapter of a side project that will become relevant in the main verse that should be going up next week, so keep an eye out for that.**

 **I'm super excited for you to see where we go next! I'll see you here in two weeks with Kubi, Xayah, March, and Pax A. for the interviews!**

 **-goldie031**


	32. Interviews

_Kubi Quince, 13  
District Three_

* * *

Kubi woke up from possibly the deepest sleep he'd ever had to the sound of a knock at his door. "Who is it?" he asked groggily.

"It's Merik," answered the deep voice from the other side. "Are you awake?"

"I just woke up."

"Great. Today are the interviews, so don't worry about getting dressed or anything because your prep team will take care of that for you. But you should brush your teeth and have some breakfast. Got it?"

"Gotcha."

"OK. I'll see you in a bit."

No matter how hard he tried, Kubi could not wrap his head around the fact that he was a competitor in the Events. Even though he had a full month of warning before the Events started, it still seemed like a dream, like something that he had conjured up in his wildest imagination but that could not possibly be real life. The Capitol was such an opulent place, so packed to the brim with things to do and people of all shapes and sizes and colors that it was incredibly overwhelming. It was not in the slightest where Kubi wanted to be.

Kubi knew that no competitor had spent their life training for the Events, considering they'd only existed for a couple of years. He also knew that many children in Three hoped for nothing more than to be picked for the Events, and he was sure that other people in other districts were equally excited for the opportunity. Kubi just wasn't one of those people. He knew that he should be grateful for the opportunity, but he just… wasn't. He would much rather be watching the Events, not participating in the Events; all of this attention and fussing and chaos was just not Kubi's speed.

Of course, Kubi also knew not to advertise the fact that he didn't want to be here. For one thing, he wasn't bold or brave enough to say how he was really feeling. Even if his dice told him to be cynical, selfish, and rude, Kubi had a feeling that he was too meek to say how he really felt. More importantly, he didn't want to ruin this experience for Kamela; the two hadn't talked much, but Kubi knew that he would feel bad if she didn't get the experience that she wanted because Kubi didn't want to be a part of the Events. So as much as Kubi wanted to give up, to throw in the towel and try to lose so he could just go home, he knew that it would be a disservice to Kamela to do that. The last thing Kubi wanted to do was ruin his chances at friendship with Kamela. He'd never felt accepted by anyone before, and Kubi knew that being accepted by Kamela in the first place would be an uphill battle for him because of her personality quirks. So as much as it would be a struggle for him to do so, Kubi was going to do his best to do his best, to make sure Kamela got the opportunity she wanted.

Provided, of course, that his dice played along.

Groggily, Kubi eased himself out of bed and went into the bathroom, where he brushed his teeth and washed his face. As soon as he left his room, he was intercepted by his prep team members and whisked to… the common area.

Kubi was confused. "Aren't we starting styling?"

"We don't need to quite yet," explained Dromo, the head of Kubi's prep team. "To be rather frank, you're a boy, so you need less makeup and way less time. Take your time and eat something, and then we'll get going." Kubi quietly followed instructions, eating some pancakes, a few strips of bacon, a plateful of eggs and a glass of orange juice. When he was done, his prep team led him back to his room, where they began the process of preparing Kubi for the interviews. Kubi sat in the bath for what felt like days, letting them fill and empty the tub over and over with seemingly endless permutations of soaps and lotions and bath bombs. Finally, Dromo declared Kubi ready for hair and makeup. Kubi was given a white undershirt and a pair of black shorts to put on while his prep team worked on him. Once he was covered, Three's mentors, Byte and Alexei, came into the room to work with Kubi to figure out his interview angle.

"So, what are you thinking for your interview?" asked Alexei, taking a seat on Kubi's bed as the prep team continued to fuss around the younger boy.

"I mean, it's pretty straightforward to me," Kubi replied. "I have my dice. Tonight, I'll give them a roll and that'll tell me what angle to use."

Byte raised her eyebrows. "Don't you think that's a bit of a risk?"

"What do you mean?"

"These Events are all about popularity," explained Byte. "To succeed, you need the other competitors to like you, so they don't send you into the elimination challenge. You also need the Capitol audience to like you, so _they_ don't send you into the elimination challenge. I don't know so much about all of your dice-generated personalities because I haven't seen them all, at least I don't think. But if your dice yield a personality that makes you unfavorable, it could tank your and Kamela's chances of winning."

Kubi thought for a moment. "That makes sense. And, I feel most comfortable when I'm any one of the three versions of myself that appear when I roll these dice. Being just plain me on stage is not something I'm particularly interested in doing, and I'm going to feel way more comfortable if I can put forward one of my personas. And anyway, two of the three personalities aren't bad. That's good odds, right?"

Alexei and Byte looked at each other. "Would you really feel more comfortable if you roll those dice?" Alexei asked.

"Yes. I really would."

"All right," relented Byte. "Just… please don't do anything that'll really mess up your chances."

"I'll try."

Once Byte and Alexei had left, Kubi's stylist, Watson, came in to get Kubi dressed. Kubi changed from the black shorts into a pair of black briefs, then put on a white dress shirt, black slacks, and a District Three yellow tie and a vest in his selected shade of orange. When he was dressed, his stylists handed him orange high-top shoes with yellow accents, which Kubi carefully laced on. Once he was all ready and approved by Watson, Kubi asked for a moment to collect himself before going down to the basement for the interviews. His team obliged, leaving Kubi alone in his room with his thoughts for the first time that day.

Kubi took a deep breath, then searched through his suitcase for the small pouch in which he kept his dice. He took a die out of the pouch and rolled them around in his hands. This was the most important roll he'd ever make. A part of him wanted to roll a good number so that he and Kamela could do well in the Events, but a part of him wanted to roll a bad number to up the odds that he could be done competing and be a normal spectator instead. Taking a deep breath, he jostled the die around and threw it onto the table. And while he didn't want to say it, the die yielded precisely the result he wanted.

It was a three.

* * *

 _Xayah Amano, 17  
District Eleven_

* * *

As Xayah sat waiting on her bed, she couldn't help but notice her leg shaking under the white fabric of her dress. She knew that she didn't have much of a reason to be anxious; as someone who was used to performing in front of people, the prospect of sitting alone, with Dorian, in front of millions of people didn't really make her nervous. And she would have an interpreter, so she wouldn't have to worry about communicating with the audience. Yet, she felt her palms sweating and her heart racing, and she could do nothing to stop it.

What could possibly be making her so nervous?

Before Xayah could figure it out, she heard a knock on the door. Xayah turned around and opened the door to find Ivie waiting for her. "Ready to go?" Ivie asked. Xayah held up one finger, then turned towards her mirror to give herself one last look-over. Her stylist had dressed her simply, in a floor-length white gown with a little bunch of fabric at the waist accented by a surprisingly pretty Eleven brown flower and a pair of low white heels. Her hair had been pulled back in an elaborate updo that was accented by the same brown flower, and she was wearing pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. Somehow, Xayah's stylist had put together a mature white outfit that didn't look too bridal, a feat that Xayah very much appreciated.

Smoothing out her dress one last time as an excuse to wipe the sweat off of her palms, Xayah turned back around and followed Mallory to the elevator, which took her and the rest of the Thirteen team down to the basement of the training center. When the doors opened, Xayah and April said goodbye to their mentors before following a man in a black suit to a room in which almost all of the competitors were already milling around. A moment later, when Five's competitors arrived, the competitors were called to attention by a woman who introduced herself as Portia Andeers.

"Is everyone ready for the interviews? Or at least as ready as they can be? Great. Here's how this is going to work. There are 28 of you, so you've been divided into four groups of seven. Each group will be led to the wings by a stage manager where you'll wait for the duration of your entire group, and then you'll be led back here to the green room. Your groups are also listed in order, but the stage management team all have lists of who goes after whom, so if you have any questions please ask anyone in all black. While you're back here, feel free to talk and hang out, but listen for instructions so that we can keep the interviews moving. At this time, I need Paisley, Theodosia, Mettius, Xayah, April, Pax Imperioli, and Sigmund to please follow me to the stage; you'll be going for your interviews in that order. Again, ask stage managers if you have any questions, and break legs!"

Portia turned on her heels and walked out, the seven competitors following her up to the wings where they were arranged in order. As they walked, Xayah noticed her heartbeat quickening again. She expected to feel the same rush of adrenaline that she used to feel before performances, but it didn't feel quite the same; it felt more like nervousness than nerves. But what could she possibly be nervous about?

Suddenly, Xayah felt a tap on her shoulder. She jumped a little bit, then turned around to find Mettius standing there with a smile on eir face. _"Hi,"_ signed Mettius.

" _Oh, hey,"_ Xayah replied. _"How was your day?"_

" _It was good,"_ Mettius replied. _"A lot of prep work."_

" _I can see that."_ Mettius was wearing what might have been the most detailed outfit for a non-female competitor, a three-piece ombre suit that moved from a very pale blue to a slightly less pale blue at the bottom, with a gold tie and blue shoes that blended into the ombre. Eir face was made up to look like ice, and ey wore a crown that looked like it was made of ice shards.

" _Are you nervous?"_

" _A little bit. But I'm used to being in front of people from when I was able to sing, so I don't think I'll be very nervous. You?"_

" _I mean, definitely a little bit. But I'm excited to share my story and raise awareness for the deaf community. This is the biggest stage I could ask for to share my experiences."_

The two fell silent for a moment. Xayah was sure that the other competitors around her could hear her heart pounding out of her chest. Even Mettius's presence wasn't calming her nerves.

" _Did a doctor come to talk to you yesterday?"_ Mettius asked.

" _Yes. How did you know?"_

" _She came to me too. She mentioned that they had a way to give me hearing aids to fix my ears so that I could hear."_

" _And what did you say?"_

" _I told her no. She said there were ways to accommodate me without giving me hearing aids, so why give in to hearing society? Honestly, even if the doctor hadn't said that they could accommodate me, I still probably would have said no and made them figure out an accommodation anyway. There is no real reason that they shouldn't be able to; it would just be unfair, and I think everyone would be able to see that."_ Mettius stopped for a second, then asked, _"What did you say?"_

Xayah took a deep breath. _"I told her that I needed to think about it. To have to make that kind of decision so soon before the Events, which are also a really big deal, was overwhelming to me. I need more time."_

" _That's good that you're taking time to think. I'm glad that the Capitol didn't pressure you into doing something you don't need."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _There's sign language. There are alternative devices. There's no reason to conform to traditional abilities, to the society of people who are fully able, when they have the capacity to make small changes in their lives to accommodate those of us who are different from them."_

Fortunately for Xayah, who simply did not know how to respond, a stage manager came up and beckoned to Mettius to follow her to the stage. Xayah turned around to watch Mettius's interview.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen," Dorian announced. "Our next competitor is a leader in the fight for those with invisible disabilities. Ey has not let eir deafness stop em from making a big difference in eir school and eir country. A reminder to please use the silent clapping to show em your affection so that ey can hear you, and to use ey/em pronouns when referring to em. And now, let's welcome Mettius Dunebreaker!"

As Mettius walked out onto the stage, it suddenly occurred to Xayah why she was so nervous. Without a voice, it had been difficult for her to make friends, and yet she had managed to befriend someone from almost an opposite background because of their shared challenges. And now she had the opportunity to overcome that challenge, but in the easiest way possible, to go back as if nothing had happened and maybe even to be able to sing again. The whole thing was both exciting and nervewracking, but one thing in particular scared her.

If she chose to get her voice back, would that be letting Mettius down? And would ey even want to be friends with her?

* * *

 _March Porcher, 17  
District Four_

* * *

The woman in the mirror was gorgeous, by far the prettiest Marilyn had ever looked. Her hair had been straightened and then curled to give her even prettier beachy waves, her green eyes popped and sparkled even more than normal, and her tan skin glowed like that of a newborn baby. And her _dress!_ The floor-length number was sparkly and slinky, showing off her breasts and butt and accenting her eyes even more. Somehow, March's stylist had managed to make poop brown look good, probably by using Four's blue on the underside of the sequins to create the illusion of waves crashing against dark sand.

If March was Marilyn, March would be thrilled. But March was decidedly not Marilyn, as far as they were concerned. And the more that March looked in the mirror, the more anxious they felt, the less they felt like themself. This was not an unusual feeling for March; it happened every time they dressed up for a family or Academy event. March enjoyed parts of the process of getting dressed up, namely the makeup part. Yet March was also aware that makeup was an incredibly feminized thing which made them feel somewhat uncomfortable with liking the art form. Perhaps someday, when March was ready to come out and live as the man they knew they were, they'd be able to figure out how to work with makeup in such a way that made them feel comfortable with using something that was known for its feminine connections. But as much as it pained March, they still weren't ready to come out, to reveal their true self. Hopefully, March would someday feel comfortable enough to come out, and they had a feeling that, when they came out, they would finally figure out all of these complicated contradictions that seemed to follow him around.

Of course, one contradiction would be resolved: a person known for their bravery would finally be brave enough to come out.

March was shaken out of their thoughts by the voice of a stage manager, calling for everyone in the third interview group to join them in the hallway, where they would be lined up for their interviews. They took one last look in the mirror before turning and exiting the room, along with six other competitors. The seven teens were led up to the wings, where they were placed in order. And when March saw who was ahead of them, their heart sank. March had been hoping not to have their interview anywhere near Mina or Titania. Somehow, all three were in the same group, separated only by the girl from Six.

How could March do their interview as a closeted genderfluid individual when they were pretty much right after two out trans women?

March felt their nerves shoot up as Mina walked out onto the stage. At least they didn't have to directly follow that woman. There was something about Mina that was simply enthralling. She just oozed confidence in herself, she was unconventionally pretty, and she just seemed like the kindest person. And her voice had such a unique tone; it was somewhat low, like most trans' women's voices, yet was so smooth and sultry that it made March swoon.

 _No! Focus._ Mina was a pretty girl, sure, but girls were too often the downfall of tributes. Admittedly, March's life was not directly on the line here, but if they won, it might make his parents more likely to accept them as they were. March could not let her be their downfall. As much as they might want to get to know her, it would be better for them to keep their distance to increase the chances of them winning; after all, if March wanted to win, it meant Mina couldn't.

As March listened to Mina's interview, they felt their own nerves skyrocket even more. Mina was so open and well-spoken about her experiences as a trans woman, about the way that she had become a stronger person through her experiences with dysphoria yet being calculatedly candid with how she still struggled with those feelings, and about how previous Events competitors inspired her to come out to her parents the year before. March could not help but compare themself to her; how could they possibly give any form of coherent interview following that?

Fortunately, they had some time after Mina's interview to collect themself. Unfortunately, that time was partly filled by Titania, who spoke just as eloquently about her experiences. She had also gained courage to come out thanks to Chloe. How had March, who was somehow known for their bravery, not found the courage to come out thanks to Chloe? That feeling that they weren't good enough, that they were nothing but a fraud who put on a brave face but could never back it up crept up again, bubbling in their stomach until they felt like they were going to throw up. Feeling like a fraud was not an abnormal feeling for March, but it rarely came on this strongly, and it almost never came on without some sort of direct prompt, someone telling Marilyn how brave of a person she was. But this was such a strong wave of emotion that March could barely take it. They felt like they were spiraling down into a pit of despair so deep that there was no way they could crawl out of it.

"Next up, please welcome our beauty from District Four, Marilyn Porcher!"

 _Fuck._

March gave their head a quick shake and walked on stage, putting on the brave face that they were so used to putting on in Four and striding into the stage using the confident walk that they had mastered. They knew the persona that everyone was expecting to see from them: bold, loud, forward, and courageous. And while March was more than used to wearing this persona, this was the most March had ever struggled to keep it on. They managed to keep it up throughout their interview, bantering back and forth with Dorian and bragging about their various escapades and dares. But pretending that they were someone that they didn't think they were felt even emptier than it normally did. Finally, Dorian asked the kicker question: "Why do you feel like you embody courage?"

March took a second to think. "I embody courage because I'm willing to do almost anything that anyone dares me to do, even if it puts my life on the line."

"That is very brave. I think we're about out of time. Ladies and gentlemen, Marilyn Porcher!"

March kept their mask on until they got off stage, then made a beeline to a chair where they sat down and broke down in tears.

Why were they willing to do almost anything that anyone dared them to do, but not the one thing that they probably needed to do the most?

* * *

 _Pax di Fiore Altomare, 17  
District One_

* * *

Pax was not thrilled about going so late in the interview process. Once upon a time, he would have been the second competitor to go for the interviews. But with Ruby's whole new fairness thing, he was the second competitor to go – in the last group! It was almost like torture waiting for all the other people to go before Pax could finally get a turn on stage.

But now Pax's turn was finally here! All he had to do was wait for Herman to finish his interview and Pax could finally get a crack at the stage to show the Capitol audience what he was made of. Of course, the stage had to make it through Herman's interview first. And that didn't seem to be a horribly likely outcome; Herman had begun his interview by knocking over Dorian's glass of water, spilling the liquid all over Dorian's lap in an unfortunate turn of events. Pax wasn't particularly worried about following that boy. He was nice enough, but nothing compared to a Career like Pax.

Once Herman's interview was over, Pax smoothed out his maroon dress pants, gave his silver bow tie a little tweak, and stood up nice and tall, to come out onto the stage in the most Career-like way that he could. Pax had a legacy to uphold in this interview, and he was fully prepared to show everyone else how strong and powerful of a Career he was.

"Welcome, Pax!" Dorian began. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing great, Dorian. How are you today?"

"I'm doing well, thank you very much. How have you enjoyed your time in the Capitol thus far?"

"I've enjoyed it a lot! I've always wanted to visit this city, so it's really incredible to have the chance!"

"So tell me about your life in One! What made you want to come visit the Capitol?"

Pax relaxed a little bit in his chair. "Well, I've spent my whole life training for the Games, to follow in a long, long line of Altomares."

"Oh! Have you had family win the Games?"

"No."

"Have you had family in the Games?"

"Nope."

"So what line of Altomares are you following?"

"Altomares who have trained for the Games but haven't made it in."

"How many Altomares have trained and not made it in?"

Pax started to count. "Well, there was Alabaster Altomare, then Majesty Altomare, then Polo Altomare, then-"

"I guess there have been a lot of Altomares, then. Were you hoping to train to be like them, or to surpass them?"

"Obviously, I wanted to surpass them. I trained to be picked for the Games! That's what we all train for."

Pax couldn't quite figure out why Dorian looked confused. The interviewer shook his head and changed the subject. "So I'm guessing that this is how you fit the value of commitment."

"That's right!" Pax perked up. "No family in One has been more dedicated and committed to training than we Altomares have been. And our efforts in training have finally been rewarded!"

"By being given a slot in the Events."

"Yes! Our district finally recognizes the hard work we've put into training over all these years."

"Were you disappointed when you didn't get picked for the Games?"

"A little bit," Pax admitted. "But I don't have to worry about dying in the Games, which is a plus, and I can still bring honor to One."

"That is true. Do you think your training will come in handy during the Events?"

"Of course! I've been working hard for many years to sharpen my skills. I'm bound to be able to put those skills to good use. I am determined to win, and I'm sure my skillset will lead me to my goal. Otherwise, what is my training good for?"

"So, tell me about the time that you've spent in the Capitol! What did you do with your free day?"

"Me and a bunch of other competitors were hanging out talking about some strategy for the Events."

"Oh, some strategy! Can you give us a clue into what that strategy might be?"

If Pax had looked to the wings while answering the question, he would have seen Mack, who was immediately after him, gesturing wildly. And that would maybe, possibly, perhaps have gotten Pax to stop talking. Perhaps Pax would have noticed the growing scowl on Oksana's face, clueing him in to the fact that something was up with what he was saying. Unfortunately for a number of people, mostly Pax, really, Pax did not look to the wings. Even if he had looked that way and actually understood the signs that were being communicated to him by those watching in the wings, Pax's tenacity was so great and he was so unable to pick up on those sorts of social cues that he probably would have continued bowling on with what he was already planning on saying anyway.

"I mean, isn't it obvious? There's no better way to approach the Events than an alliance."

"An alliance!" Dorian looked really interested now. "With whom?"

"With the other Careers. Who else? We're all trained, so we're all targets. Why not protect ourselves from each other by working together? It's what Careers have been doing for generations. Noel and Pax were really smart to put it together."

"That's a very smart move! I think we have time for one last question. If you don't win, what are your plans for after the Events?"

Pax was confused. "After the Events?"

"Yeah. You're going to be going home after this. What do you want to do with your life?"

"I… I never really thought about that."

Suddenly, the buzzer went off. "Well, I think you'll have time to figure it out. Thank you so much, Pax di Fiore Altomare!"

Pax gave the audience a smile and a wave as he exited the stage. But inside, he was much more conflicted. He had spent his entire life training for the Games; making it to the Events had essentially fulfilled his goals. But now he had no goals, no aspirations, no plans. Life was just this big, endless void ahead of him that Pax would need to navigate through. And that prospect was overwhelming and terrifying.

Pax was so overwhelmed by the prospect of figuring out his life that he didn't even notice the other interviews taking place afterwards. Before he knew it, he was being led back to the green room with the other competitors in his group, where he was met by seven very angry Careers. "What's wrong, guys?"

"Pax. The whole point of the Career alliance was to keep it a secret," Pax Imperioli attempted to explain.

"But why keep it a secret? There are always Careers."

"True, but this is the first Events where there are eliminations in them. There was no need for us to stick to the precedent of having a Career alliance, so the other competitors weren't necessarily going to target us. But now that other competitors know we're working together, they're gonna target us no question. If we lose even one challenge, we're probably toast."

"Oh. That's not good."

"No, Pax. No it is not."

* * *

 **Well, so much for a secret Career alliance, huh?**

 **What did you think of the interviews? Do you remember what a three was for Kubi, and if so, how well did that interview go? What dod you think about March's internal conflict? Did Xayah make the right choice so far, and what choice do you think she'll eventually make? What about her relationship with Mettius here? And what will be the fallout from all of Pax's realizations?**

 **We're going to pick up again in two weeks with the transport to Thirteen! I'm debating exactly which POVs to feature in that chapter (they're all written I'm just thinking of redistributing) so it'll just be a ~surprise~! See you soon!**

 **-goldie031**


	33. Off to Thirteen, Part 1

_Sol Mikkelson, 19  
District Four Mentor  
Competitor in the First Events_

* * *

As soon as the interviews ended, Sol and Ariel ran to the District Four floor to meet their competitors there. The transport taking the competitors to Thirteen for the formal Opening Ceremonies was leaving in just over an hour, giving the mentors a little bit of time to give their competitors last-minute advice before losing contact until after the Events were over. As far as Sol could tell, there wouldn't even be an opportunity to sponsor them like in the Games; within 75 minutes, Marilyn and Augustus would be on their own among the other competitors, only really able to trust each other. Sol remembered the nervous feeling he had the year before when he realized that he was on his own, without those who were supposed to be there to help him through the process of the Events. At least Marilyn and Augustus had each other; Sol had been out in the Arena all on his own.

Just moments after Sol's elevator reached the District Four floor, the other elevator's doors opened and Marilyn and Augustus flew out of them, attacking their mentors with questions and concerns. Sol watched as Ariel calmly held up a hand. "Guys," she said, "we don't have much time. Let's do this productively. Go change into your outfits for transport, make sure your suitcases are packed, and then come back with your suitcases so you have time to eat dinner before you go. Remember that clothing will be provided for you, so don't pack any clothing that you didn't bring with you. Got it? Good. Go! We have limited time."

Marilyn and Augustus scurried off to their rooms; within minutes, both were back in the common room, wearing a District Four blue shirt, black track pants, and their district number in their chosen color on their sleeves and on their back. They each had their blue suitcase, which had been tagged with a luggage tag in their color. The two competitors placed their suitcases neatly by the elevators before joining the rest of their team at the dining table. "All right. Now, one of you tell me, what are your worries?"

"I mean, it's the same for both of us. We don't know what to do about the Career pack thing," Marilyn explained. "I don't know how we get out of this mess unscathed."

"You mean without being targeted?" Sol clarified.

"Exactly. If the alliance had actually remained a secret, we could have actually gone somewhere with it. Now Pax just basically painted a giant target on all of our backs."

"Well, I don't think what Pax said is exactly what's painting a target on your backs," Sol asserted. "Let's be real; you two are trained Careers. In a competition based around daily eliminations, anyone who claims they weren't going to target Careers if they had the chance is lying to themself. The only way you could say that the alliance helps is that it might, _might_ deter outright targeting the Careers, because you're making four enemies at the same time instead of one. But no matter what, if you're an outer district competitor, you're going to aim for a district that has traditional success if you can. That's just the way these Events are bound to go, and anyone who had any semblance of logic in their brains could see that."

"That being said," Ariel jumped in, "you are in possibly the best position when it comes to this alliance. District Four has slowly been pushed out of the primary Career pack over the past few Games, which means that the other competitors might not think about you two as part of the Careers in the same way that they will think about the competitors from One or Two, or even from the Capitol, as Careers. Especially because Pax didn't name you guys tonight, I don't see you guys being the primary target of the outer districts. Furthermore, you two arguably make up the strongest pair in the Career Pack."

"You think?" Augustus blurted out.

"I absolutely think. You both have consistent training for almost as long as any Games tribute could possibly have before entering the Games, minus just a year or two. And from what Sol and I can tell, the two of you are rather compatible. Think about those two facts alone in comparison to the other teams. Mettius and Titania have a baseline communication barrier because Mettius is deaf. My guess is that neither of them has any form of Games training; Titania has circus training, but I don't know enough about that to know exactly how that might come in handy for the Events. Both Paxes have been training for a long time, but Pax I. has pretty low strength for a girl her age. And, between us, I don't think Pax A. is the sharpest crayon in the box. So they're each like half of what you need for a Career. Then there's Two. Mack is just young, so he has somewhat little training, and while Noel may be strong, they were kicked out of the Academy for their anger issues. It feels like a somewhat mismatched and volatile team."

"Now, Games training is not the most useful for the Events," Sol rebutted.

"But I think Pax and Noel think in the context of Games training," Ariel asserted. "And if they think that Games training is equal to Events success, no matter how misguided that may be, they'd be foolish to get rid of you two. You just need to prove to them that you can do the things they need you to do in competitions and then stay under the radar. If you manage not to make enemies on either side, you should skate by for a long time."

Suddenly, a voice broadcasted through the training center. "Attention, competitors. Please make your way to the roof so that we can prepare for the transport process."

"That was quick," Ariel remarked. "How do you feel?"

"As good as I'm going to," Augustus admitted. Marilyn nodded in agreement.

"That's as good as any of us can hope for," mused Sol. "Now, let's do this."

Sol and Ariel said their last goodbyes to their competitors before the pair were ushered off by their stylists, who would escort them to Thirteen and remain there as supervision until competition began in two days' time. Once Marilyn and Augustus were in the elevator and the doors were all the way closed, Sol and Ariel turned to each other. "How do you feel?" Ariel asked.

"Well, it's out of our hands now," Sol said.

"Mostly. But we can still rally votes for them. To Games Headquarters we go!"

Sol and Ariel went back to their rooms to grab their own belongings, then took the elevator down to the lobby. As he got in the car that would take him to Games Headquarters, Sol couldn't help but feel that he was in for an emotionally draining yet life-changing two weeks.

He had no idea how right he was.

* * *

 _Berk Delano, 12  
District Nine_

* * *

When the elevator doors opened, Berk and Nova stuck close to their stylists as they maneuvered through the crowd of people doing last-minute preparations for the transport. Men and women in black and Capitol purple hustled around, bringing boxes and bags from place to place and loading them onto the various waiting hovercrafts. It was rather overwhelming, so both Berk and Nova were happy to have their stylists with them to help them navigate through the crowds. Eventually, the four arrived at one of the larger hovercrafts with a big letter C on the side. The two stylists each took something out of their pockets and showed them to a woman, who took a wand out of her pocket and waved it around each of the District Nine team members. When she finished, she wrote something down on her clipboard and led the District Nine team up a ramp into a comfortable common space, in which a number of competitors were already milling around.

"Welcome to your hovercraft!" the woman said. "This is the third of three hovercrafts taking competitors to the Capitol. The first is for the competitors from the Capitol through District Four, the second for Five through Eight, and the third for Nine through Thirteen. You'll be spending the night on the craft, and it should land at some point while you're asleep. Before we continue, if you need anything from your suitcase, please take it out now, because we'll be stowing the suitcases for the trip." Berk, Nova, and their stylists took out a number of items from their suitcases, then closed them and gave them to another Capitol official, who whisked them away.

The woman continued, "The bottom level here is for competitors and the top level is for stylists. Around the common room are snack and drink stations as well as emergency phones, and there are a number of single-stall bathrooms. The colored doors here indicate sleeping compartments; just look for your color on the door. Stylists, if you'll follow me, I'll take you upstairs; competitors, you are to remain down here unless there is an emergency to give the stylists some privacy. Enjoy your flight!" The woman whisked the two District Nine stylists away, leaving Berk and Nova alone downstairs.

"Wow, they really trust us without supervision," remarked Nova.

"My guess is there are cameras," Berk replied.

"That would make sense." Nova yawned. "I'm feeling kind of tired. I think I'm going to go to sleep."

"That sounds like a good idea." Berk and Nova looked around until they spotted their compartments, a tealish-blueish door next to a primary blue door on the eastern wall of the craft. "Good night, Nova," he said, giving Nova a shy wave.

"Good night, Berk."

Berk brought his suitcase into his compartment and looked around. It was a small compartment, with a bed, a small nightstand with a small toiletry bag and a lamp, a TV screen, and a small dresser. He opened a drawer of the dresser to find two complete outfits waiting for him, a pair of pajamas and a uniform of some sort, presumably for the next morning. "What a waste," Berk remarked. "I just put this outfit on." Still, he couldn't deny that the fuzzy blue pajamas looked rather warm and comfortable. He took off his clothes and put on the provided set of pajamas, which were just as warm and cozy as they looked. Then, he grabbed the toiletry bag and went to look for a bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face.

As soon as he left his room, Berk had a feeling something wasn't right. He stopped for a second and listened, picking up on the sound of crying coming from Nova's room. Without missing a beat, Berk burst into Nova's room, finding the girl curled up in tears on her bed. "Nova! What's wrong?"

"I… I…" stuttered Nova through her tears. "Small space… too small…"

Instinctively, Berk helped Nova off of her bed and brought her into the common space, which was at least somewhat bigger. He helped her lie down on the couch, then ran back into her room to get Nova a pillow and blanket. When he came back out, a pair of competitors in mint green shirts had come to Nova's side. As the shorter girl looked on nervously, the taller girl was carefully stroking Nova's hair, speaking softly to her and helping her calm down. It comforted Berk that he didn't hear loud sobs anymore. In fact, he couldn't hear any crying at all; if Nova was still crying, it was now nothing more than whimpers. "Here, Nova."

The older girl turned around. "Oh, this looks perfect," she said, taking the blanket and pillow from Berk and using them to turn the couch Nova was lying on into a bed. "Thank you for bringing them to her."

"Is she OK?"

"I think she will be. She's stopped crying, but she's very shaken up. Let's leave her be for a bit." Mina moved over to another couch and took a seat, motioning for Berk to sit next to her. "What's your name?" she asked.

"I'm Berk, and that's Nova," Berk replied. "We're from Nine. Though you could probably tell that from our shirts," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"I'm Mina," replied the older girl, "and this is Cam. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too. Did you know Nova before the Events started?"

"A little bit. My dad works for her dad."

"That's a nice coincidence," Mina remarked.

"It is."

Berk and Mina continued to make small talk, with Cam breaking in occasionally, until Nova rubbed her eyes and sat up. As soon as Berk saw her, he exclaimed, "Nova! How are you?"

"I'm OK," Nova replied quietly. "I have claustrophobia. So when I closed the door to change into my pj's, the small space of my room scared me. Normally it's not this bad…"

Mina moved over to Nova's side and began to rub her back. "That must have been really scary."

"It was."

"And it's OK to be scared. You're not home right now, so everything is even more scary."

"That makes sense, I think."

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Nova," Berk said, sitting next to each other. "And thank you, Mina, for your help."

"Of course. We'll let you guys sit for a bit. Come on, Cam." Mina and Cam went into a compartment with a bright yellow door and closed it behind them.

For a while, Berk and Nova just sat together, comforted by the other's presence. Berk was just happy to know that his partner was feeling better. Berk knew that he would have no success in the Events without Nova at her best, so he wanted to keep her comfortable and feeling safe. After some time, they began to make small talk that slowly turned into strategy talk.

"How do you feel about the Career alliance?" Berk asked.

"Not surprised, but a little nervous. I had been thinking, though, that it might be good to form an alliance of our own. It gives us some more protection, especially considering how young we are."

"Hm. That's not a bad idea. Who would you suggest?"

Berk looked towards the bright yellow door. "I mean, I think we both know which team would be most likely to form an alliance with us."

* * *

 _Sigmund Roost, 14  
District Six_

* * *

Sigmund had been mad before. He occasionally got mad at his father for abandoning him and his mother and sister when he was younger, leading to his mother's death. He got mad at Penelope sometimes in the way that all children get mad at those who raise them. And as much as he loved them and truly believed that they were collectively the best thing to happen to him and his sister, Sigmund sometimes got a little mad at her husband and her children for forcing Penelope to constantly split her attention between the four of them. These were natural emotions; everyone got mad now and again, especially when one's "normal" had been changing almost constantly for four years.

But this. This was a different kind of mad. This mad felt like a burning sensation bubbling up in Sigmund's stomach, a fire lit under him that threatened to burn up and up and up and consume everything around him. This was beyond madness. It was even beyond anger.

This was fury.

"Sigmund, what's wrong?" asked Ella quietly, as the two waited to board an elevator to take them up to their floor.

"Nothing," Sigmund grumbled. "I'm OK."

"No, you're not," Ella replied. "I can tell. What's making you mad?"

"Nergh," Sigmund grumbled again, refusing to look Ella in the eyes. "I'm _fine_."

The elevator arrived and opened its doors for Ella and Sigmund, who entered and pushed the button for the District Six floor. Once it arrived on the District Six floor, Ella pulled Sigmund to her room and shut the door behind her. "Look. If we are to be partners, I need to make sure that you're OK so that we can perform well together. What is making you upset?"

"I'm just mad at Noel. No, not mad – more than mad. Almost furious! I can't help but think that Noel formed this alliance just to get back at me, to explicitly target me."

"That's a little bit of an extreme statement, don't you think?"

"I mean, maybe. And Noel also has explicitly said that my sister was the worst thing to happen to them and refused to come to Penelope and Jade's wedding because of how disastrous it was for them. You and I both know how much the Events can impact our lives and how much better our lives and our families' lives could be if we win. I can't shake the idea that Noel formed a Career alliance just to get back at me, with the express goal of taking me out."

Ella nodded. "Yeah, I can understand where your feelings are coming from. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also mad about the Career pack situation, though for very different reasons. I don't understand why Noel had to take the Events and turn them into the Games. I don't completely understand why we even need alliances in these Events in the first place, honestly."

"I kind of understand the point of alliances in theory," admitted Sigmund. "It's a layer of protection against elimination. If you have allies, they won't send you into the elimination challenge for at least some time. Obviously you can't control the popularity part – people will like you or they won't – but an alliance provides at least a little bit of protection."

"Aha. OK, I understand that. But there's no reason that they had to form this particular alliance. They can't even really use the argument that they were looking to ally with the strongest teams, considering that they left out the pair from Thirteen. It's a blatant attempt to bring Games culture into the Events, and it infuriates me that this is happening."

Sigmund and Ella were startled by a knock on the door. "I got it," asserted Ella. She made her way over to the door and opened it a crack. "Hi, Ventus. What's up?"

"Is everything OK in there?"

"Yeah. We're just…" Ella looked to Sigmund, who shrugged and then gave a nod. "We're frustrated with the Career situation."

"Ah. Well, I need you to go grab your suitcases. We have to board the hovercrafts."

As Sigmund went back to his room and packed his suitcase, he felt a little germ of an idea sprout up in his head. It was a little bit risky, sure, but it might be a way to level the playing field. After all, the Career alliance would only be aided by the outer district competitors picking each other off. While his plan wouldn't totally eliminate the Career threat, and it wouldn't guarantee that the outer district competitors would keep each other in, it might neutralize the threat a little bit. And even neutralizing a little bit might be enough to knock the Careers off of their high horse. He just needed a few other teams to buy in, too.

Sigmund knew he had to be really careful, though. If he didn't watch his actions, he would become just as much of an authoritarian as he knew Noel could be. And the last thing Sigmund wanted was to turn into Noel.

Once his suitcase was packed, he went back into the common area with Ella and the rest of the District Six team to eat dinner. Dinner was a quiet affair; much like the last night before the Games, there really wasn't much that anyone could say about the Events. It was much nicer to sit and listen to Panama describe the adventures they dreamed of having in places that sounded so fantastical that there was no way they could exist. Giant pyramids taller than the Training Center? An entire city underwater? A forest that contained hundreds, maybe thousands of different kinds of plants and animals? Impossible. Finally, it was time to go up to the roof for the transport to Thirteen. Before leaving, Sigmund and Ella took a few minutes to say goodbye to their mentors. Sigmund gave Nell a hug first, then turned to his own mentor, Ventus. "Any last advice?"

Ventus pulled Sigmund into a hug and whispered into his ear, "If I were you, I would watch how you react to this. It's totally natural to feel upset by something like this. But reacting violently doesn't really help all that much. Don't let yourselves get distracted by this. OK?"

"OK," Sigmund replied.

Ventus pulled out, placed his hands on Sigmund's shoulders, and looked him in the eyes "You've got this, no question. I believe in you."

With that, Sigmund and Ella said one more goodbye, then took their suitcases and followed their stylists to the elevator. Once the doors closed, Sigmund moved a few steps closer to Ella. "If there was a way to level the playing field against the Career alliance, would you do it?" he asked, speaking quietly so that the stylists couldn't hear.

"Anything to take those Careers down a peg."

A small smile crept onto Sigmund's face. "Well, I have a plan."

* * *

 **OK so if we're going purely chronologically Sigmund's section here goes before Berk's but I really wanted to end the chapter with Sigmund so this is what we've got. What did you all think? Was the advice of the District Four mentors good? What do you think will change Sol's life? Do you think Berk and Nova will be able to find an alliance? And what is Sigmund's plan?**

 **As we get even closer to the Events, remember that reviews are going to play a role in the participation component of the Events! Even if you don't have a competitor in the story! So you might want to start catching up on reviews now if you're behind. And substantive reviews may be better…**

 **I'll see you all next week for the second part of the transport! We'll hear from Jack, Darcy, and President Emerald then.**

 **See you soon,**

 **Goldie031**


	34. Off to Thirteen, Part 2

_Jack Tailleur, 15  
District Eight_

* * *

Jack was rather impressed by the hovercraft. The technology needed to keep a piece of metal this big and this heavy with this many people on it in the air, without it seeming like the hunk of metal was even moving, must have taken years and years to develop. With the trajectory he was on, Jack figured that he would be capable of developing similar technology someday, but it would take years and years of schooling and training. He wasn't presumptuous enough to assume that he had that skillset quite yet. But he sure hoped that he could someday. Imagine the problems that he could solve!

While he was impressed by the technology of the hovercraft, he was, admittedly, not particularly impressed with his quarters. They were small. Jack could extend his arms and pretty much touch both walls at the same time. Jack had really no basis for complaining; he would only be on the hovercraft for one night as far as he knew, and there wasn't really enough space to make the quarters bigger and to have a common room. But, for him to not go crazy, Jack would have to spend as much time as he could in the common room before going to sleep. So, he took the book he was reading and snagged a seat on a very comfortable couch in the common area.

Just as Jack got to a good part, he heard some noise coming from behind him. He looked up to find Ella and Sigmund coming out of one of the rooms. Ella came over to Jack, while Sigmund began knocking on the other doors around the common area. "Hey, Jack. Am I disturbing you?"

"Hi, Ella. No, not at all. What's up?"

"We wanted to have a meeting of everyone on this hovercraft. It'll, of course, be happening here in the common room, so you don't have to move."

"Gotcha. What are we meeting about?"

"You'll find out when everyone gets here," replied Ella cryptically. Jack raised his eyebrows but chose not to push for answers. He turned back to the book, finishing up the section he was reading, then quickly put his book back in his room and went back to the common room, in which most of the other competitors were already gathered. Jack took a seat next to Paisley, who gave him a concerned look. Jack responded with a shrug. Eventually, after quite a bit of time, Sigmund approached the circle with one of the girls from Seven, who plopped down on an ottoman with a scowl on her face.

"All right. Hi, everybody," Sigmund began nervously. "I wanted to talk about an idea that Ella here and I had for the Events. As we all know by this point, we're going up against what is effectively a Career pack. With most of the well-trained tributes aligned together in one group, it will undoubtedly make it a lot harder for those not in the Career pack. Both Ella and I are incredibly frustrated by the thought of having a Career pack in the Games, particularly because it goes against all the work that is being done to get rid of the Games mentality so pervasive in this country.

"In the face of adversity like this, it's easy enough to give up and say, you know what, there's no way we can beat the Careers so why even try? But I think there's no reason to give up because we have two things the Careers don't have. First of all, we have intelligence and knowledge about things that don't connect to training. While training will be helpful for at least some of the challenges, if last year's Events give any indication of how this year's Events will go, another subset of the challenges will absolutely be based around knowledge that everyone in this circle is more likely to have than the Careers are. And secondly, we all, in some way or another, have motivation to win that I don't think the Careers could ever understand. Whether it's a desire to change or eliminate the Games to protect innocent kids, a hope to find oneself in some way, or to win to make a better life for one's family, we want to win to a degree that the Careers could never understand. If we combine these two things together, we become a force way more powerful than the Careers.

"Ella and I want to propose an actually secret counter-alliance. The worst thing we can do as outer district tributes is target each other; we are much better off targeting the Careers. Knowing that we all have each other's back is valuable, because it keeps us somewhat safer, allowing us to maybe take bigger risks during the Events. And the Careers would never see it coming; while we are specifically targeting them, they'll be ad hoc targeting all of the outer district competitors, allowing us to hopefully gain an even greater upper hand." Sigmund took a breath. "What do you think?"

"What happens if we say no?" asked Paisley.

"Nothing," Ella asserted. "It doesn't make sense for us to go after you when the Careers are our biggest threat. We just ask that you keep the alliance a secret."

"Why us four?" asked Kiyo.

"Well, I enjoyed getting to know Herman and Jack when we played Dungeons and Dragons, and Ella was adamant about including the team from Seven when we discussed the matter the other day. It's just good luck that we all ended up on the same hovercraft.

The group fell silent for a moment. "Can we have some time to think?" asked the other girl from Seven, who wasn't quite so angry.

"Yeah. Just let us know what you think and then we'll have a more final alliance meeting at some point later."

Jack beckoned for Paisley to follow him, then made his way to his cubicle. Once the door was closed, Paisley asked, "So, what do you think?"

"Honestly, I'm apprehensive. I don't know how much I can trust the other teams because it feels like Sigmund and Ella just threw the alliance together with the teams that happened to be on this hovercraft. It makes me nervous to put my fate in the hands of other people. What do you think?"

"I mean, I think there is no way that this goes badly for us," Paisley admitted. "Any team that agrees to an alliance is agreeing to have the back of the people in that alliance. Plus, even if things go badly, we have the elimination challenge as a buffer. And I really do think that we can win those."

"And we could still end up in the elimination challenge anyway because of the popularity thing?" Jack mused. "Do you really trust the other teams?"

"Honestly? I do. I really do."

"All right. I'll agree, but I think we still need another layer of protection."

A brief moment of silence followed. "And what is that?"

"I think we need a plurality."

"A what?"

"A plurality. Basically, we need to add one person to our alliance, so that if we have to vote on something, we have the highest concentration of individual votes. It's an extra security feature"

Paisley shrugged. "It makes no difference to me. If you can get Sigmund to agree to it, go for it."

* * *

 _Darcy Spades, 17  
District Seven_

* * *

Darcy was not exactly what she would consider a people person. Sure, she had interactions with other people from time to time. But she was not the kind of person who went out of her way to interact with other people. The moments in which she interacted with other people that weren't her husband usually came because of her profession; Darcy often found herself comforting those mourners whose graves she dug, even occasionally acting as somewhat of a (completely unlicensed) therapist. And the status of her social life didn't really bother her. Someday when she had a child, she was sure that she would be spending time with the parents of that child's friends as the children ran through forests and playgrounds, and that they would all end up supporting each other when those kids broke their first bones from falling out of a tree, as was a rite of passage in Seven. But for now, she was quite happy with her husband and her trees and her work back in Seven.

Of course, the Events were different than Seven. These Events were built around your social abilities. You needed to make friends with other competitors to be sure that you didn't become easy cannon fodder at some point; it was much easier to send someone to elimination with whom you had no connection. And you needed to network with Capitolites so that they would eventually vote for you, so you didn't become the least popular. Darcy had a feeling that she and Oksana weren't doing too hot on either count. The elimination challenge provided an opportunity to save the girls, but it wasn't foolproof. First of all, one could only win so many of them in a row when your luck ran out. And secondly, when one's district partner was currently planking on her bed, crying unstoppably, it didn't bode well for one's ability to win _any_ challenge.

Darcy wasn't giving up, though. Darcy wanted to win. She really, really did! The money would be a huge help for her and her whole family and would allow her to financially support them so that her parents would have to work shorter hours and so that her child would maybe not have to take a job until they were out of school. To do that, she needed to convince Oksana to join this alliance, to give them a safety blanket and therefore a fighting chance. But that was proving to be easier said than done.

"Oksana? Can I come in?"

"No."

"Oksana, come on. We have to talk about this alliance idea."

"No. I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?" Darcy paused to allow Oksana to answer.

"I… I just don't want to talk."

Darcy pushed Oksana's door open and stepped inside. "Oksana, you can't keep giving that answer every time someone asks you to do something. There has to be something bigger going on."

"How do you know?" Oksana asked in a very accusatory tone.

"You've basically spent the entirety of the past few days either alone and crying in your room or scowling at everyone in your general vicinity. You haven't talked to Anthony, You haven't talked to Sawyer, and you've barely talked to me or Alvin. You're pushing everyone away from you but being alone is not making things any better for you."

"But it doesn't matter! Nothing matters with these Events."

"What do you mean?"

Oksana curled up in fetal position, facing the wall. "I don't want to talk about it."

Darcy closed the door behind her and took a seat next to Oksana on her bed. "You never really had a chance to grieve for Avery, did you?"

Oksana turned her head to face Darcy. "What makes you say that?"

"Avery was one of the first people whose graves I dug. I was young then, I think I was nine or ten. My parents were struggling to make ends meet, so I volunteered to take on some work after school. The best and safest thing they could figure out for me to do was to stay as far away from falling trees, and the only place they could find a job for me was with the gravedigger. Over the summer before school started I trained with the gravedigger. The first grave we worked on was Avery's grave, because… well, it was smaller than some of the others. You were young when he died, right?"

"I was seven."

"And he was the oldest sibling, right?"

"Yes. He protected me and my siblings."

"Did you ever have a chance to grieve for him?" asked Darcy.

Oksana looked stunned. "I grieve for him every moment of every day," she snapped. "When I go to sleep at night, I miss his hand rubbing my back. I miss waking up and going downstairs to see him waiting for me and smiling. I miss his chocolate chip pancakes that he used to make for me on special days. I miss the way that he used to spend time with me and Sebastian and Marcella whenever he could. And I miss not knowing the truth about my father and being able to just be a kid without having to worry about the next time he would lash out at any of my siblings and not needing to be the one to protect them."

"But did you ever have a chance to go through the grieving process? Have you truly accepted the fact that Avery is dead? It's OK to be sad every now and then, but to be this incapable of functioning for this long is alarming, and potentially even dangerous."

"I don't know if I'll ever accept that Avery is dead. How could I? He was torn from our family when he was just twelve. Twelve! What did a twelve-year-old do to deserve being killed?"

"Nothing. Nobody can justify it. But people are working to stop it. Like Ella. That's what she was trying to talk to you about the other night. Finding a way to make it so nobody has to lose their Averys again."

"But she doesn't get it! Losing a sibling is a kind of pain that nobody can understand."

"Nobody except for everyone who has lost a sibling to the Games before you," Darcy teased a little bit. Seeing how upset Oksana became, Darcy backpedaled a hair. "Look. Even if other people don't have the exact same experiences as you have, they have similar experiences where they can understand what you're going through. Building those connections with other people will help you heal."

"Forming this alliance is not going to bring Avery back."

"No, but it might bring Oksana back. And who knows? Maybe Ella and Sigmund will get so smart that they'll find a way to raise the dead and bring Avery back to you."

"I doubt it," Oksana grumbled, curling back up into a ball. "If you want to join the alliance, go right ahead," she gave up. "But don't expect me to do much of anything with it."

"All right. If you need anything, let me know, OK?"

"OK."

Feeling moderately satisfied, Darcy left Oksana's room and closed the door quietly. She'd accomplished the first part of her goal, getting herself a little bit more protection.

Now, she just needed to figure out how to motivate her partner to actually win this thing.

* * *

It was late, probably later than Ruby Emerald should have been in her office. But Ruby didn't particularly care on this night. Ruby probably wouldn't get much sleep until the Events were over and all twenty-eight competitors were safely back in their home districts. In the Games, if something happened to one of the competitors, it wasn't the end of the world. Sure, Ruby wanted everything to be fair, but the sad reality of the Games was that twenty-four children would die anyway; a little accident before the Games wasn't the end of the world. But if any little thing went wrong during the Events, if any competitor had any form of injury, it could be disastrous for Ruby and all the changes that she was striving to make for the country. And now, the competitors were traveling to compete in the Events at the farthest possible point from the Capitol. If something were to happen, it would take far too long to either get to Thirteen or to get a competitor back to the Capitol for Ruby's liking.

Of course, with the military based in Thirteen and state-of-the-art medical facilities just across the border in Twelve, the odds of something happening that couldn't be dealt with before someone from the Capitol could get there was rather slim, a fact that had been reiterated to Ruby multiple times by her son and niece. It didn't really do anything to quell Ruby's nerves, but they kept trying.

A knock on Ruby's door caused the president to look up from the paperwork she was reviewing. "Who is it?"

"It's Violet."

"Oh, come on in, darling." Ruby worked to neaten up her papers so that Violet had a place to sit.

Violet opened the door and took a step in. "What are you working on?"

"Just reviewing some paperwork that really needed to be reviewed." The paperwork absolutely did not have to be reviewed at that moment. "Is everything good?" Ruby swiftly changed the subject.

"Yeah. I was just coming to let you know that the transport is safely off to Thirteen."

"Very good. And everyone and everything was checked?"

"Yes, anything that went onto any hovercraft going to Thirteen was checked and all people were wanded down."

"Fantastic. Any problems?"

Violet sighed. "A few supply bags were found to have objects in them that might be used to create an explosive. It's unclear who exactly placed them in there. I brought the objects in question to Soorim, who said that those things do have other uses in Thirteen in particular and that while some of those materials were actually used for Events competitions, Soorim was under the impression that they had all they needed already in the Arena. We'll double-check on the numbers but for now, we've confiscated those items and are keeping them under tight guard."

"Do you know who had access to the bags?"

"They were packed under careful supervision in our facility, and checked and inventoried by me, then Soorim, and then Cerise gave each bag a final check as head of the Events Fairness Committee. Each bag was inventoried and numbered by Soorim and me, and I believe Cerise had worked with Soorim to organize the system by which and the people by whom those bags would be unpacked and organized when they got to Thirteen."

"Hmm." Ruby took a deep breath, feeling very glad that she had put extra security procedures in place. "What's your take on the matter?"

"I don't know. I would like to give the benefit of the doubt and assume that it's a misunderstanding, but with two rebel groups at play, it wouldn't surprise me if there was somehow some interference. But I struggle to figure out how they would have gotten access to the bags. They were guarded around the clock from when they were packed to when they were brought out to be put on the hovercraft by elite Peacekeepers and SpOps members."

"All people who have gone through extensive background checks."

"Precisely."

"Hmm. All right. We'll have to check the security tapes from that room and try to figure out what happened. Do you have anything else?"

"Yeah, I have the final competition descriptions for you to look over. We finally solidified which is going to happen on which day."

"About time, huh?" Ruby asked, a teasing smile on her face. She took the folder from Violet's hand and opened it, taking a moment to skim the piece of paper it contained. "These look good. I'm still really concerned about the District Four challenge. You're collecting that information unobtrusively, yes?"

"Yes."

"And you have therapists that will be available immediately after each competitor finishes?"

"As per your request, yes."

"Just be ready to pull the plug if it becomes necessary. The competitors' safety is my biggest concern." Ruby looked over the document once more. "You know, that District Seven challenge looks epic. Will there be enough time to set it up?"

"Soorim assures me there will be, simply because the second challenge that day is really rather simple."

"Great. Tell Euodia that it looks really good and she should be proud. Now, is anyone official going to Thirteen tonight? I know it's only for one night and then we're basically sending the kids back in this direction."

"Well, you know Garnet is already there for the Opening Ceremony tomorrow. Cerise, Soorim, and I are going in about twenty minutes. Everyone else is staying here for last-minute preparations. And we should beat the competitors there too, honestly."

"Really?"

"Yeah. To stall, we sent the competitor and stylists hovercrafts west for an hour before heading east towards Thirteen. Our craft will go faster because it has fewer things weighing it down, and we'll hopefully beat them by about two hours."

"Very smart. Anything else?"

"Yeah, one other thing. What do you want me to do about this Career alliance?"

Ruby sighed. "I'm not thrilled, to be sure. It kind of undoes what I've set out to do with the Events, namely set them apart from the Games, more than anything. But I don't want you to interfere. First of all, we should not interfere with the Events under any circumstances unless the lives or health of the competitors are being put in danger by another competitor. But more importantly, Career alliances never last, and especially considering that some of the Careers have already begun to interact with other competitors, I'm not sure if they'll really be able to be as separate as they purport to be. We should keep an eye on it but I don't want to meddle as my grandfather would have done."

"But if we do things that are in our purview to chip away at it?"

Ruby smiled a little bit. "I mean, I wouldn't complain."

* * *

 **Well, this chapter is a bit delayed. The dang coronavirus has kind of mixed up all of my plans and also wasn't the best for my mental health. But we're here and we're pushing on, and hopefully being at home for the foreseeable future will help me get some writing done!**

 **So, what did you think of this chapter? Did you see Sigmund's plan coming? Do you think it'll work any better or worse that the Career alliance? What did you think of that little Ruby section at the end? What happened with the supply bags? And what is Violet thinking about doing?**

 **I have now two more stockpiled chapters for the story, and after that, we move into the Events! Which is very exciting. I can't wait for everyone to see what I have in store!**

 **See you soon,**

 **Goldie031**


	35. Off to Thirteen, Part 3

_Alder Eltier, 17  
District Ten_

* * *

Alder was shocked by how well he slept on the hovercraft. When he saw the size of his room, he'd assumed that his small bed would also be uncomfortable. Instead, it turned out to be plush and cushy, with a nice puffy blanket and a pillow that one could adjust how hard or soft it was. Rather than feeling sore and exhausted, Alder woke up feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the day.

Stretching his limbs out a little bit, Alder got out of bed and opened the door of the dresser, then pulled out the outfit for the day. It was basically the same thing as the previous day, a pink shirt with a green number ten on the back and black pants. Alder could not understand for the life of him why the Capitol gave them another whole outfit that looked the same as the previous day's when he had worn the previous day's outfit for maybe five hours and didn't get it dirty. If the Capitol was that concerned, they could have just figured out a way to wash the clothes overnight. This was just a waste of resources that could easily have been redistributed to better serve the district population. Alder was sure that there were homeless people in every district who would benefit from one of the outfits the competitors wore. But these outfits would probably never make it there.

Once he was dressed, Alder grabbed his toiletry bag and went to one of the bathrooms to finish getting ready for the day. Then, he returned to his room to drop off his toiletry bag before going to seek out breakfast. When he came back out, he noticed a woman sitting on one of the couches. How long had she been sitting there? It was a good thing Alder had gotten ready before leaving his room.

"Good morning, Alder. Are you ready for breakfast?"

"How did you know?" Alder asked.

"Lucky guess," she replied. "Head down that ramp and take a right. You'll find some of the other competitors there."

Alder followed the woman's directions, going down the ramp and turning right, finding himself in a sterile cafeteria of sorts. Alder went to the buffet and got some food, then looked around to determine where to sit. It seemed as though most of the competitors were already there. Two of the tables were particularly full, and the rest of the competitors were scattered around the area, most of them sitting alone. Alder had a feeling that he should sit with one of the competitors who was sitting alone. After the reveal of the Career alliance the night before, Alder had the strong feeling that he needed an alliance himself, and the best way to form one would be to target one of the competitors who seemed not to have an ally. But before he could approach the person with whom he was hoping to form an alliance, he was intercepted by two boys, one wearing Eight purple and one wearing Six white. "Are you Alder?" asked the boy in white.

"Yes. How's it going?"

"Well, thank you. Can we steal you for a bit? We have a question for you and for Marshall."

"Sure, I suppose. Where is Marshall?"

"He's sitting over there." The boy in purple indicated to one of the tables on the side of the room.

Alder shrugged and followed the boys over to the table, where a seat had been left open for him next to Marshall. "Good morning, Marshall!" Alder greeted his district partner, carefully placing his plate down as he sat.

"Morning," replied Marshall curtly.

"So what's this thing we need to talk about?" Alder asked, cutting a piece out of his pancake.

"Well, I'm Sigmund, and this is Jack, and we were wondering if you would be interested in joining an alliance," said Sigmund, who sounded a little bit rehearsed.

"An alliance?"

"Yes, an alliance. To give us some insurance against the Careers. The best way we can combat them is to have a group of people working together and promising not to send each other into the elimination challenge."

"It's not fool-proof," admitted Jack, jumping in. "Because of the popularity element of the Events, this alliance won't prevent any of us from being sent into the elimination challenge. But it at least provides us some form of protection."

"Who else would be in this alliance?"

"You guys, us and our partners, and the teams from Five and Seven."

"Five teams sounds like a lot for an alliance. Why so many, and how will we make sure we're on the same page?" asked Marshall.

"Well, we want five teams to have a plurality," explained Jack. "That means that we'll have the highest concentration of votes in a voting situation, even if there is no majority. So if, for whatever reason, we have to vote, we have ourselves as protection. And in terms of being on the same page, that's not our biggest concern. We would love to come to an agreement on who we send into the elimination challenge each time. But, if you have one plan and another pair has a different plan, as long as we're not targeting each other until we have to, I think that would be fine. Yeah?"

"I think so," Sigmund backed Jack up.

"Well, I see no problem with this alliance idea," Alder asserted. "I think even a little bit of protection will go a long way in these Events, especially if part of the goal of the alliance is to target the strongest teams."

"I just feel like it's a big alliance," Marshall admitted. "Definitely bigger than I was thinking."

"But think about it this way," Sigmund suggested. "Every outer district competitor should have the same goal anyway: to get rid of the Careers. Even if they hadn't formed an alliance, it still would make sense to target the teams that have the biggest advantages. After all, Careers who are not trained still grow up in better conditions than many outer District citizens; that's already a leg up, their intense physical training notwithstanding. This alliance simply formalizes the plan that everyone should have anyway."

Marshall weighed his options for a moment, then nodded. "That makes sense. The size of this alliance still makes me nervous, but I do see how it could be to our benefit."

"So you're down?" Alder urged.

"I suppose so," replied Marshall reluctantly.

"Amazing!" Jack exclaimed. "Why don't you come and join the rest of us? We have to come up with an alliance name. I was personally thinking the Hovercraft Brigade."

Alder and Marshall picked up their plates and followed Sigmund to one of the fuller tables. He was certainly happy to have an alliance, especially one this big with this much protection. And yet, as he passed all the tables with just one or two competitors, he couldn't help but second-guess his choice.

Would it have been a better thing to do to befriend one of the lonely competitors and give them his support, rather than lend support to a preexisting, strong alliance?

* * *

 _Kamela Wisdom, 14  
District Three_

* * *

Kamela was not happy. Not in the slightest.

For years, since her diagnosis with Asperger's Syndrome, Kamela and her parents had worked hard to help the girl stick to a daily routine. It was the single thing that made Kamela feel the most comfortable and happy, and breaks in that routine, especially if Kamela didn't know they were coming, would throw Kamela off for the rest of the day, sometimes even more. So to have a series of now four or five days where there was absolutely zero routine to them had caused Kamela's anxiety to skyrocket. And things were bound to get worse, too. Thus far, Kamela had always been accompanied by an adult to help her through her issues, first Byte and then Concordia. But tomorrow, she would be on her own in the Arena, no real help in sight. She desperately missed her home and her parents and her friends, and just wanted to be done with these darn Events and back home where things were normal.

Even though she couldn't totally follow a routine, Kamela was doing her best to stick to her routine from home. She still woke up at exactly 6:43, she still brushed her teeth in the same careful way that she did at home, and she still had exactly three pancakes for breakfast. But it felt weird to be sitting alone at a table eating off of a plate she'd never seen before that she had to sanitize before eating off of instead of sitting with her parents at home with the plates that she knew her parents cleaned to her satisfaction. As she'd been one of the first competitors to wake up, Kamela had already finished most of her pancakes, but was absentmindedly pushing around the last bite as she contemplated what her friends were doing right now. Were they hanging out together? Were they splitting up now that Kamela wasn't there? What if Kamela came back and everything was just… different? The thought terrified her.

Kamela was shaken out of her thoughts by a loud, booming voice. "Hello, competitors. Please finish your breakfasts and come through the door behind the buffet. We will begin the day's programming shortly."

At that announcement, Kamela felt herself relax a bit. A day with some structure was better than the free day, which was all unstructured and therefore really bad for Kamela. She quickly ate the last bite of her pancakes, then stood up and followed the mass of competitors moving towards the door. On the other side of the door was a room that looked a lot like a classroom, with 28 metal chairs set out in rows facing a podium and blackboard. Kamela scanned the room then chose a seat in the third row, where she usually sat in her classes back home.

After a few minutes, when all of the competitors had arrived, a man in a very decorated uniform entered the room. Instantly, one of the boys from Thirteen shot to his feet. "At ease, Soldier Peregrine," the man said, motioning for the boy to sit, which he did just as quickly.

"Good morning, competitors," the man opened formally. "I am General Sikka, and I am the top general here in Thirteen and therefore also the mayor of this fine district. We are very honored to be hosting these Events and to help usher in this new era of Panem. Unfortunately, because of the nature of running a military this large and because of the limited amount of space we have, we were unable to take on a lot of the responsibilities of the Events, which is why you've spent the past few days in the Capitol. But we're glad that we were able to figure out the logistics of rearranging the schedules of an entire district to present the Opening Ceremonies. Today, we'll be taking you on a quick tour of the district, and then we'll practice for the Opening Ceremonies later tonight. Afterwards, you'll meet with your stylists to get dressed. Now, if everyone would follow me, we'll begin the tour."

The competitors all stood up and filed along behind General Sikka, who led them out a separate door into an underground hallway. "Most of District Thirteen, including residential quarters and recreational spaces, is underground," explained General Sikka. "Above ground is a forest that we use for some of our wilderness training for various units, as well as a few buildings, mostly for administrative purposes."

That was about all of the tour that Kamela internalized. A part of her wanted to learn about Thirteen and its history. At the same time, this was not exactly a subject that interested her, and anyway it was very difficult for Kamela to focus for more than thirty minutes. The girl found her mind wandering to various physics problems she'd been pondering for weeks, such as what would happen if the balls used for Newton's cradle were different sizes or weights or both. She tuned back in at various moments but was very quickly sucked back into her thoughts ever time. The few things that stuck with her about Thirteen were all centered around the district's reliance on schedules. Every day, every single person in the district was given a schedule for the day, and everyone followed their schedules every day. Routine and order were clearly valued highly by this district.

It was nothing short of Kamela's dream.

The tour ended in one of Thirteen's biggest formal spaces, where the tour was met by a lower-ranked general who introduced themself as Major General Martinez. "I will leave you here in their capable hands to prepare for the Opening Ceremony."

It did not surprise Kamela to learn that the main role of the competitors in the Opening Ceremonies would be to march in a procession in district order, the Capitol competitors leading the way and the competitors from Thirteen at the end. Kamela expected this to be a simple goal. But nope! The goal was for everyone to march in perfect sync with each other as if they were actual trained soldiers. This was the kind of thing that people in Thirteen spent weeks learning how to do. The competitors had under two hours.

Kamela recognized how important it was for her to pay as much attention as she could now. But she simply couldn't find it in her to focus for more than a few minutes at a time. As she watched Major General Martinez explain how to walk, she found herself focused on the way that his arms moved to counterbalance his legs and keep him balanced. As he explained the way the competitors were to walk in and the mark they were to hit, Kamela's mind wandered on how she used to do experiments throwing balls against a wall at an angle to hit a point on the other side of the room. The less she focused, the more agitated Major General Martinez got and the more they screamed; the harder she tried, the less able to focus she was. By the end of the two hours, every competitor was frustrated, but Kamela was close to tears.

All she wanted was to go home.

* * *

 _Atticus Peregrine, 15  
District Thirteen_

* * *

Soldier Peregrine couldn't help but scoff at the sobbing girl from Three. While he knew that it was a societal norm to feel bad for people who were upset, that just wasn't Atticus's style. Nor was it the style of Thirteen, for that matter. Thirteen was not the place for people who are sensitive, who couldn't handle learning something that children in Thirteen learned to do soon after they learned to walk. If this simple task was overwhelming Kamela, what was she going to do when the Events themselves started?

After what seemed like an eternity, the competitors had either figured out how to march in time to the satisfaction of Major General Martinez or they were simply out of time to perfect it any further; judging by the frustrated look on the general's face, Atticus had a feeling that it was the latter. Another group of officers came to escort the competitors back to the hovercrafts on which they came, where they were met by their stylists. Atticus found his stylist, Lorenzo, rather quickly, then followed him into one of the extra hovercrafts that had come to Thirteen in caravan with the competitors. They walked down a narrow hallway until they came upon a black door labeled with a big black number "13" outlined with a thin white line. Lorenzo placed his finger on a small sensor that turned green and made a small clicking noise. "After you," Lorenzo offered, pushing the door in to allow Peregrine inside the small room; Lorenzo followed and closed the door behind him. "All right. I've been asked to confirm with you about your bottoms. Would you prefer pants or a skirt?"

"Pants, definitely."

"That's what I figured."

Moments later, Atticus was dressed in what was essentially his military dress uniform, which was precisely the outfit he would expect to wear for a formal ceremony such as this. However, the uniform was missing something. "Where are all of my medals and ribbons?"

"What do you mean?" asked Lorenzo, who was shining Atticus's dress shoes.

"My dress uniform has various ribbons and medals attached to it right here," Atticus explained, gesturing to the left side of his chest. "This just has my nameplate."

"Ah. Well, I'm not sure. We could ask General Sikka or Violet Emerald or someone like that if we see them. But it's probably because this isn't your actual dress uniform, just a very, very accurate copy." Lorenzo paused for a moment. "Is your normal dress uniform black?"

"Yes."

"Ah. See, the only other competitor to have a black uniform is the other Atticus. All of the other competitors have uniforms in their district color. So they probably just made you another one, so that it would match the pattern of the other competitors' uniforms." Seeing that Atticus wasn't convinced, Lorenzo added, "Also, this way nothing will happen to them in the craziness of this Opening Ceremony. You wouldn't want to lose or damage an award you earned."

"That makes sense," replied Atticus grudgingly. While he understood the logic of not wearing his medals, Atticus was proud of the medals he'd earned and was somewhat disappointed that he wouldn't get to show them off to the whole country. But he knew that nothing good was going to come from arguing, and he didn't want to set off a chain of events that would lead to him not winning, so he figured he would grin and bear it until he won. Then he could wear not only that but also a victory medal!

After both Lorenzo and Atticus had looked over the uniform to make sure that it was laying right with no wrinkles or creases, Lorenzo did some very basic makeup – "For the camera," he explained – and used some hair gel to tame Atticus's curly dark brown hair. "Now, be careful not to do anything that would cause you to sweat off your makeup or mess up your hair. So no exercising."

"Really?"

"Yes. You need to look good for the cameras and the country. Promise me?"

"I promise," groaned Atticus.

After a final once-over, Lorenzo led Atticus back out of their prep room and back towards the formal space for the Opening Ceremonies. When they arrived, Lorenzo said goodbye to Atticus and went into the formal space itself, while Atticus was led down another hallway to a green room for the competitors. Most of the competitors with shorter hair were already there, but the longer-haired competitors, particularly the female-identifying ones, were yet to be seen. Atticus figured it would be a while until the ceremony started, so he needed to find a way to occupy himself. The problem, of course, was that most of the things Atticus did when he didn't know what else to do were active, and he had promised Lorenzo that he wouldn't exercise. Atticus took a seat in a chair on the side of the room to try to think of something he could do to pass the time.

Perhaps he could work on some sort of mental skill. After all, being a good soldier wasn't just about training physically. It was also about having the mental capacity to handle challenging tasks. Atticus decided to work on his memory by playing the word chain game, where he would think of a word and another word that started with the last letter of the previous word. His goal was to remember as long of a chain as he could without repeating words; his previous record was 65 words.

 _Arm._

 _Arm mark._

 _Arm mark karma._

 _Arm mark karma affect._

 _Arm mark karma affect teal._

 _Arm mark karma affect teal leaf._

 _Arm mark karma affect teal leaf friend._

Friend.

That was a word Atticus didn't spend much time thinking about. Sure, he sometimes interacted with other people, but Atticus preferred to focus on himself and his own success. He had worked hard to obtain his position at the top of his age group, some would even say the top position in the whole orphanage; distracting himself with people or things not related to that goal didn't strike him as a good idea. But as Atticus stopped playing the word chain game and started looking around at the other competitors, he noticed that almost everyone else was standing or sitting in clumps, conversing casually with their fellow competitors. Atticus had never learned how to converse casually; in fact, he wasn't at all conditioned to socialize. That fact had never before bothered Atticus. Now, though, watching all of the other competitors interact, a little nagging thought poked through the rigid barrier that Atticus placed between the thoughts he allowed himself to think and the thoughts he'd been conditioned not to think.

If everyone else had friends, or at least people to talk to, and Atticus didn't, was he missing out on something?

* * *

 ***peeks head around doorframe* Well, hi there.**

 **I know it's been quite a while since I updated even though I had this chapter stockpiled but as I'm sure a lot of you can imagine, the last few weeks have been a bit rough. And then as I was feeling ready to upload I realized that I wanted to wait a bit because I was getting so close to finishing another goal, which I did! So anyway, here's the chapter! What did you think of your first introduction to Thirteen? Did you think Ten would be joining the alliance? What about Atticus's sudden revelation? How will Kamela do as the Events progress?**

 **A few important announcements! First of all, I've reached a point in this story where there is no way for me to keep my POV count even for all the competitors. I need to be writing the POVs that are going to progress the story to where I want it to, and particularly because of how the Events are structured, I can't be sure that every single character is going to get exactly the same number of POVs. What I'm going to do my best to do is make sure that every district gets an equal number of POVs, because district partners are going to be rather prominent in each other's POVs.**

 **Second, we've hit another check in point! This one is going to be** _ **different**_ **from other POVs, so please pay attention here. On my profile you'll see a second form labeled IDIDE Participation (Ch. 35 on). That form will ask you to rank all fourteen teams from your favorite, which you'll rank as 14, to your least favorite, which you'll rank as one. Again, you're giving the highest possible points to the team you'll like best, and the lowest possible points to the team you like least. I'll explain next chapter how those points will come into play, but I don't want to bog down this chapter; I will say that if you are not caught up on reviews, now is really the time to do so. The secret word for this chapter is READ.**

 **And finally, the real reason why I was waiting to post this chapter: I have a new SYOT up! It's called Only Time Will Tell: The First Centennial. And like all of my stories, you're going to want to read the chapter before submitting because lots is happening.**

 **Anyway, thanks all for your patience! We're looking at one more chapter and then the Games, which is super exciting! I can't wait for you all to see what I have in store.**

 **Yours,**

 **Goldie031**


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